The Gravedigger 1: Dawn of Hope
by Kamagua
Summary: Destinies are borne from men of standing and prestige. I, however, am a simple wanderer. But yet, the world seems to have taken to my shoulders like the voices have taken to my head. Destiny calls my name. It screams, Hope Blackwood.
1. Bugs, I hate bugs

_**Editing this story fully. Shortening chapters by whatever means possible and adding more based on those cut. I said I would it eventually...didn't I?**_

* * *

Reload.

The thought pounds the inner-sanctums of my mind.

Reload.

Yes, that is exactly what I need to do…

_You planning on actually doing it? He really should…before…it…well…_

Shut it, both of you. I already have enough going on in my head without you two…

Reload.

Air slithers across my parched lips. Dry eyes shift in focused sockets. Without breaking sight with the shrouded corners of this is darkened room, I reach for the bolt upon my rifle's side.

Frosty chills snap at my finger-tips, alerting me to the lifeless metal. Fingers dance delicately across the edges, tasting the design with their unseen tongues. What they yearn for sleek. What they desire dense, yet mobile. And after a few...seconds...

There it is. The bolt.

Gripping the small weight, I give it a gentle tug. Slowly, calmly, carefully, I reach to my side, slip the same hand down my wrinkled clothing, and find the flap of a small leathery pouch. Flipping it upwards gently, my hand caresses its inner-confines for what I so desire. A bullet.

With chilled ease, my hand slips from the sack, and I slide the small round into the chamber – its gentle thud a bellowing roar upon these silent walls. A sweaty palm presses against the bolt, shoving the cylinder back into a prepped position.

Time passes upon the trail of a snail. Ever-searching eyes dilate, yearning for little light this room has to afford. If it were not for the miniscule cracks upon these aged planks, I would be blind.

Suddenly, a heavy thud ripples from the far wall. Wood howls, bending and bulging to the monster's weight. Disturbed dust bursts from the impact spot, fleeing from the horrors that stir their activity.

_THUD_

The beast is shifting; every pounding pulsation an ode to its moving feet.

_THUD_

Large pockets of packed dust radiate from the bowing beams overhead. He has made it to the roof. Slivers of tarnished, decaying wood rain down to floor. Sweat clings to my thick, brown hair and mats it to my face.

_THUD_

It is on the center of the roof. This is the moment. Carefully, cautiously, I lift my rifle. My eyes stay locked, the target where I want it. As I stare, the tube comes into sight - my deliverer of destruction. My eyes align with small metal sight that shall be my guide.

Take a breath. Hold it. Steady. Ready. Fire!

_TITHBURRRSSSH_

Violent, ruby and amber flashes fill the dark room momentarily. Almost instantly, the illumination fades to darkness. Sadly, my eyes have fed too thoroughly; my retinas burnt with glinting gleams of a gunshot moments lost. It is hard to see. Ok, maybe firing a gun in this room was a bad idea.

_You think? He needs to keep steady!_

_CRARASH, _the mighty beast slams its mangled claw through the upper planks.

A grand shockwave ripples across the walls. Massive portions of roof splinter inward. The house wails in agony, while dust bleeds from the cloudy wound. His strike nowhere near, but the target not for flesh but for the fear.

And he found the bull's-eye…

Calm down.

Focus.

Reload.

I reach into my pocket, grab a hold of a small, slender metallic ball, and raise it to my chest. Bracing the gun, I quickly ram the bullet into the chamber. Fingers fidget with the bolt, anxiety present with every second I flounder. Taking a deep breath, I calm my nerves and finish the procedure.

A loud thump draws my attention upward. Dust flutters in large clouds as my opposite repositions itself. Another step taken. More dust wafts from it's once peacefully slumber. Another loud thump shakes the roof, and then…silence.

"Your aim is-s-s off, Hope Blackwood." Cracking the air, the raspy voice chills my bones. His voice echoes upon these hallowed halls, and hangs for a moment before…

_CRARASH,_the sounds of splintering wood fills my eardrums. His onslaught begun…

Instinctively I lunge forward. I aim for a delicate, well-execute roll, but I fall short. A belly-flop will have to suffice. Swiftly, I roll onto my back, embracing the assault that was destined for my demise.

A lanky, inter-jointed limb thrashes about; three, razor-like claws snapping at only air.

_CRARASH, _for a second time comes a thunderous roar matching that of bursting cannons...

Recoiling into a glorious fetal position, I shield my face from the raining wood. Slivers bounce across my form. Gentle clanking sounds radiate inches away. Winds whip as they are stirred into frenzy. I mustn't look, but…

Reluctantly, I peel my fingers from my face and peer upward.

A drum rattles beneath my ribcage. Muscles tense. Adrenaline pumps through pressurized veins. Above me flails a second limb. A trio of glistening claws pinch a short, few centimeters away. From this distance, one can almost feast upon the chilled, misshapen mitt. From this distance, one can almost savor each long, thick hair that protrudes from the sides of the arm. From this distance, once can almost taste…its hate…

"Where oh where are you, my little s-s-snack?" Vile words vibrate within these weary walls, "Wherever can you be?"

The claw ceases its hunt. It hangs limply as if demoralized by its failure. Alas, as I think its activity naught, it shoots as a rocket back into its hole. Light fills the room, if only for a fleeting second…

Appearing in the gaping wound is a black gem; dull light reflecting off its sinisterly splendid, sleek surface. A second orb shifts into sight, inches below the first. Both are smooth as obsidian rocks, yet spew the aura of death. They are….its eyes…

"Little mors-s-sel, how long do you think you could hide?" His eyes pierce my soul. His deep voice vomits grotesque syllables. "The mas-s-ster has-s-s watched you! Chas-s-sed you!"

Two more orbs slip in and out of sight – a total of four to have been embraced.

"And today, he clos-s-ses-s-s in! You cannot deny the mas-s-ster, Hope! You cannot deny the Lich King!"

Ravenous pulsations rain as his laughter. Each chuckle more horrific then the next. As he emits his diabolic cackles, his eyes vanish, allowing the light to return. And with it comes a thousand tiny taps. A thousand needles scratching against dried, rotted wood.

Meek pricks of sound shatter my eardrums. Unexpectedly, one of the holes is clotted by some unsightly scar. My curiosity strikes at all wise instincts. Foolishly, I pull myself upright and glance at the now blackened chasm.

Stuck midway in the roof is a small, black disk-like object that wiggles wildly. Tiny, spiky extensions gnaw the wood around the wound. Dropping from it, a small drip of sickening ooze falls to the floor. Again another drip drops.

Marvelous…I hate bugs…

My optics drift to the tiny jerking figure. Dozens of coin-sized eyes rest upon a small, flat head. Plates of finely crafted carapace shift against the rough wood. Man, do I hate…

The other hole suddenly fades. Once more, a nasty, disgusting bug wedges itself into the break. Sadly, as it wriggles the final light vanishes. Utter darkness now...

_You picked the room. He liked it yesterday._

This is not the time for this…

A loud cracking sound draws my mind back to the ceiling. The grotesque creatures wriggle in their spots. Both writhe wildly, their own personal displeasure as grand as mine. Mandibles click Morse-code – the pulses a screech of anguish. They seem to twist and bend as if compelled, or if forced…

They flinch twist in circles. Their once hearty exoskeleton withers and breaks. Green ooze seeps from the splintered form, plummeting to the planks below. To my dismay, the insect snaps in two. One half smacks the floor seconds prior to the second portion. It is wholly dislodged, but no light returns. A knot twists within, the perpetual gloom foreshadowing an impending doom…

And to add to said ominous despair, pricking needles poke at my legs, telling me to stand to alleviate the numbness.

_You really need to stay seated. He needs to sit down!_

I come to my feet, keeping my arms to the sides as if I am upon a high-wire. Eyes focused upon the hole. Nerves tensed. Maybe, it is nothing...

Suddenly, a flood of smaller insects course into the room. Dozens of tiny legs skitter across the top of the roof. The once calm wound's weeps like an artery bursting with insecticidal blood!

I shift to the wall opposite of the flood and watch in horror.

_You need to stop thinking to yourself so much. He really needs to move._

Bugs…

_You need to shut your head! He needs to escape!_

Ok.

Listen to them.

Relax.

My vision diverts from the disgusting distraction and aims for the door. Dozens of bugs flutter across the closed blocker. Ok, try something else. Desperate orbs roll across the room as they look for an escape

Nothing. They scan the room, but only see the incoming of miniature monsters.

Wait…there! The boarded window. It appears frail enough. Yeah…

Taking a deep breath, I allow a fleeting moment to pass. I use the time to conjure both choices to said situation: stay and fight or…flee. It takes a fraction of a second to make a proper decision…

I lower my shoulder and aim myself towards the wall. Full speed is exerted into my legs. Focus aligned upon the misaligned boards. Tilting my head to the side, I hide my face from the impact.

_THUD,_ a rumbling racket stirs my pain threshold, but the continued movement relieves the soul – the wall broken as hoped…

Panging agony prods all parts of my body. But that is naught, naught to the glorious gusts that cuddle my body, naught to the flowing whispers of the wind that whips across my flesh. The wind that alleviates my soul, caressing it with the sweet serenity of nothingness…

Floating, everything feels weightless. For a brief, peaceful second everything feels…weightless.

_THUD_

The ground instantly returns. Oh, the sweet density that I had missed. Back muscles bulge as pain pricks their sanity. Rolling onto my belly, I ignore the anguish and use my arms to lift me. Coming to my feet, I twist back around and frown.

The clambering of massive legs and the slapping of tiny limbs draw me back. Two stories up, the little bugs fill the room. Above it, on the roof, is the current antagonist to my dilemma. On the roof is the assailant. On the roof…a nerubian fiend…

Purple plates of carapace run from the upper portions of its body down its back. Black fades to purple as my eyes sweep towards the underbelly of the beast. Spines spiral sinisterly towards the skies while thick hairs dangle in the air. Limbs shake in anticipation. Green drool slithers from its gaping mouth, and curls around clicking mandibles.

And eight, perfectly focused orbs land squarely upon me…

"Blackwood, so elus-s-sive!" He shuffles sideways, ripping an avalanche of tattered shingles as he moves, "I was-s-s certain my young'ns were going to feas-s-st upon your fles-s-sh."

My feet drag through the dead grass as I come upright. I peer up at the spider and then crack my back.

"Sorry to disappoint, Spider, but…" a thought wanders through my head, "Your filthy young wouldn't have enjoyed my southerner style. Darrowshire human is a completely different taste than the Stratholme brand, you know"

His teeth crack loudly teeth, his anger evident, "Fool! Dare not mock the might of the S-s-courge!" Wood sprinkles to the equally as brown grass below as he shuffles the other direction. "It is-s-s your reas-s-son for living! And it s-s-shall be the reas-s-son and purpos-s-se for your death!"

His body arches, the hairs quiver. His limbs lock as praying – for what can only be ill boding for me. His entirety directs, stills, and prepares for an onslaught…

"And death will be all you ever know!"

Twisted black limbs mangle the remainder of the roof. Fierce force aids the monster's leaping attack. Thudding upon the soil, his many legs dig up a trail behind him, yet send no weighted shockwaves.

Reacting fast, I reach down and grab my shovel. Quickly I grip the side of my gun with my free arm.

He closes in. His mangled claws whip through the air. Grass digs up between the gnarled toes that are far too familiar. Thick, heavy hair drifts to the shaking wobble of its body.

He nears in seconds. Cold air escapes from his lungs. Bitter jaws snap with intimidating ferocity. His arms lurch back. Elbows of exoskeleton design lock rearwards. In a flash they fly forward.

The blade of my shovel lifts in time. _CLANK._Sparks spurt from the collision. Instantly the second spiny limb hurls at me. _CLANK_. Throwing my gun like a shield, its metal body absorbs the blow.

His strength is insane. My feet skid through the dirt, barely able to keep stable upon the ground.

The monstrous bug's fangs shake in delight at the meal that rests before it. His head shifts forward, the teeth still clattering. Closer, his eyes reflect my face perfectly. His eyes hunger. His eyes scream yearning...

"Hope, death has-s-s been s-s-searching for you," Slime drips from his mouth, "Bas-s-sk in its greatnes-s-s, it has-s found you!"

Again, he cracks his teeth together. Closer, I can feel the chill of his broken lungs. Closer, my arms feel weak. Closer, I slide my hand down the cannon, attempting to better grip the weapon. Closer, his fangs are now greatly detailed. Closer, his breath stinks of rotting corpses. Closer…

Eyes filled with hate. A bony body boils from unyielding rage. Teeth balance the teetering sway of life and death. Claws pushing for the kill…

Death truly has found me this day.


	2. A Simple Shovel

"Your will is-s-s nothing! You will s-s-serve…"

_TITHBURRRSH, _flares rain in pursuit of the volleyed round...

The pellet's end within the skull of the beast…

Thick, green goo slaps my face. It sticks heavily to my forehead, nose and lips. Neon rays shimmer beneath its murky crust, the sheen giving the substance sickening qualities to dwarf all those of mucus.

Almost instantly, all thought is lost to the sudden weighted feeling. Sinking fast is the lifeless form of the aerated creature…

Bah. I hate bugs…

Its limbs are entangled upon mine, his determination rather impressive even in death. I shove the claws away and step back. Once mighty arms twist and bend sickeningly while limp legs are snagged by pockets of grass. A couple of seconds pass before the meager traction of the blades is overwhelmed, and he comes to a rest.

Exactly where you belong.

I attempt to draw in air, but the filthy film forces me to wheezing. Promptly I free my hands, letting fall my spade and riffle. Muffled thuds waft from their landings, but I have more important matters to attend to. Like removing this horrendous sludge from my face…and…breathing…

_You are a dirty boy! He needs to use the rag in his pocket…please._

Lungs grow heavy, the pressure of death's own air building within. Swiftly I let slip my hands into my pockets. Nothing there. Another gasp, but bleak rewards discovered. The other pocket. Ah, thank goodness! I have it. Free at last, the thin fabric flips up to my maw.

In a swift motion, I sweep the slop from my lips and nostrils. Air slips upon eager flesh and fills a cavity with that so desired. Waste is exhaled, its innocent destruction not the means to my finale. I take a few minutes to relax before continuing with the exterior exodus of this slime.

Finish the mouth. Move to the cheeks. Traverse the corners of my eyes, and swipe the sludge from my brow. It takes a few minutes to complete the procedure, but once done, I lift the now fully soaked cloth into sight.

Blobs of dangling emerald entrails envelop my vision. Clutched weakly in my palm, the soiled rag is completely consumed by the filth. Oddly, I feel compelled to roll my fist, examining every inch of my skin for some unknown reason. Gross, it is all over my hand. It is even caked on my hairs…

Bleh…

Shaking my hand, I attempt to discard this grotesque goo from my grip, but it sticks like wet cement. I try again, but the ball bounces upon a thick thread of firmly plastered slime. Ok. Enough of this. Forcefully, I whip my hand into the air, let it hold for a brief moment, and fiercely let my hand fall.

It drags at my palm briefly, but the tether is tested and severs. Flying downward, it slaps the grass with a rather unnerving _flop_ before ceasing all movement - say for some jiggling. Curled lips express my complete disgust at the substance. I whip my hand against my pants and smack my lips as if I can actually taste the slime.

What a horrible thought.

_You thought of it! He did invent that notion._

What is your point? I wasn't pointing any fingers.

_You thought about thinking of pointing fingers! He knows the first voice is just overzealous. You need to shut it, pretty boy! He knows I don't have a form…unless you are hitting on Hope. You fool; I do nothing of the sorts!_

Could you stop…

_He wants to get all kissy with his host. You want to get kissy with my foot!_

Really…please…

_He doesn't have any feet! You will taste my soul's righteous...sole!_

"Shut up! Both of you!" My voice echoes upon the vast skies. It booms for all to hear, soars for all to embrace, and travels for the universe to feast upon. But we know it is I that will ever hear it.

And yes, you two don't count.

_You are so hurtful. He ignores us so…_

A strange array of pricks prods the back of my neck, and I spin, examining Darrowshire as if something is there. Sweeping hut by hut, I find nothing but decrepit abodes and devastated ruins. Look at me, letting my paranoia get the best of me.

Sighing, I turn back forward, letting the obvious revelation fill my soul: I am clearly alone. Not a person in sight. Not here, anyway…

_You are never alone, Hope Blackwood. He has us!_

Great.

Taking another deep breath, I try to take some comfort in those thoughts. Then, weakly, I throw a weary leg forward. It slams against the dreary, ochre dirt-path. This same said path matches the brown bustles of grass that surrounds it narrow design. Death coats both equally, and taints both fully.

Each step I take releases an array of crunches. Each step I take secretes a sinister concoction of cracking rocks and snapping grass. Each step I take fills my mind with odd ideas while guiding me towards a fork in the road just ahead.

It is the same "T" intersection that I have crossed almost every day. It is the same route rode by my horseless existence. It is the same location, blotted with the same dead trees, rotted shrubs, and lifeless activity. All the same…say for a new anomaly; an array of undead, winged buzzards.

Rested upon the rows of rotted branches, the vile vermin gather as if a feast is at hand. No, they perch, their numbers great, a feast truly at hand. Instantly, I throw my vision upon the land's horizon.

A flat field rests beneath the twisted limbs of organic death. The same ruined foliage litters the terrain, but is lost to a black bulge. A black, shadowed mound that I know all too well. That is exactly what I think it is…

A body…

Rushing forward, I advance towards the corpse with all haste. As I near the edge of the intersection, I throw my arms to the skies, while shouting, "Be gone, you disgusting winged rats!" Their beady red eyes align upon me, their fear naught.

I near the sight of my direction. To my dismay, a powerful stench caresses me with all its pungent strength and slows my movement. Shielding my mouth, I attempt to hamper its flow, but that is clearly foolish. I glance over my arm, daring not to gag, and see the clearly lifeless cadaver at my feet.

Multiple wounds riddle his body, while dried blood coats a vast amount of grayed flesh. No longer does the fluid seep from his gashes – all is departed. From his rather well-kept, golden hair and long and pointed ears I am most certain that this is a Blood Elf.

It doesn't take a genius to know this young adventurer's fate; another courageous champion seeking experience in efforts to gain rank amongst his peers. What a shame.

And what a horrible smell.

Wincing, the aroma devastates all my senses and pulls me to tears. He has been for quite some time. How in the world did I miss him?

_You really should worry about that later. He is gonna be sick…_

Turning, I face from the rather disturbing visage. I quickly squat, throwing my arms rearward simultaneously. A few moments pass before my blind hands find one of his shoulders and then the other.

I inhale deeply, and exhale just as forcefully. Using my legs, I pull the Blood Elves' torso upwards while letting his feet cling against the thick soil. Another pocket of fresh air devoured. Another pustule of carbon ejected.

Ok, Hope. Get going.

Catapulting a leg forward, I make my way towards the nearby gravesite I so proudly erected. The walk is rather short, and I could not be happier. This smell is ridiculously horrific. Keeping focused, I move with utter determination – or dire ignorance.

A shrub slips to my side. A tree fades in and out of a sight. A pile of bones is dodged. And as I round a small hill, I take sight of the concrete forest of my hand's construction. A few, gray stones jut as makeshift placards of one's final rest. Dark-brown mounds stretch as roadways for their stories' untold. Settled dirt is dulled and flattened as the ever-present details to their end's longevity.

Every tombstone, every grave, each one a glorious adventure, a glorious story that only they know, and only I have the displeasure of hiding.

And as I near, I frown at the unseen body - another tale to lay to rest.

Eagerly, I bound for the miniature graveyard, let flop the man's body and take a moment to relax. Alas, even my worn body cannot escape the aura of death that radiates from his corpse. It is making my sick. I try to dislodge the thought of his aroma from my mind.

I hear a weak set of footsteps, but they are quickly ignored - another rodent or wandering roach. How about the trees? No, nothing in the trees. The skies? No distractions there, just the same dark blood-soaked heavens. Louder, the footsteps grow, but they are naught to the growing nausea…

Don't do it Hope. It has been nearly three months since the last time you…

"Worm, what are you doing?" Spinning, startled beyond comprehension, I react fearfully to the raspy, crackling voice of some unseen figure. "Boo?"

Consuming his demeanor, I let the familiar sight fill my soul before I feel the washing tides of relief sweep over me. Before me stands a hunched man, his height equal to mine despite his poor posture. And his apparel is...matching...of his stance.

He wears no shoes for he has no need. His pants are tattered at the knee, but he cannot feel the breeze. His sleeves are ripped at the upper-arm, but the rest of the limb will never to notice its worn design. A hood rests upon his head, allowing sight of his gray flesh, and gleaming, green eyes.

A lipless maw oscillates, the absent facial skin a rather daunting visage to behold, "Worm, do not make me repeat myself." His tone becomes harsh, his patience tested. "Otherwise, I may have Lord Tickles feast…"

Unexpectedly, a deep, spine-tingling growl makes its way from my head down to my toes. I cannot help but stop and turn to see the furry creature peering up at me from the undead man's side. Thick brown hair rests unkempt and greasy. But I do not think this dead dog has a care for such useless notions such as hygiene…

"Worm, I am getting rather annoyed." His voice is almost as bothersome as the ones in my head.

I look at the pup for a second longer before I gaze at the decaying, undead figure.

"Make? When did I ask you to sick your dog on me? Oh, was when I ignored you, or when I mentally decided his smell was better than yours?" My tongue knows no bounds…

Strangely enough…he laughs. "Worm, you are truly an odd pile of flesh."

He slaps his chest peculiarly before speaking again. "You are one of none that talks to me in such a tone." He sighs, radiating with undeserved satisfaction, "It is rather refreshing to feel the bite of a vile throat upon my ears."

He leans back, letting the disgusting muscles stretch for all to see. Falling forward, he lets out a sharp whistle as the fibers snap back into place.

"Come, boy, leave him be." Kindly, the pooch recoils his fangs under his decaying folds of skin.

Nathanos reaches down; the long bones that are his fingers drag through the matted fur upon the creature's head. "Good boy, you listen. Unlike worm over there."

I frown at him and utter, "Nathanos, why don't you continue on whatever demented quest you started with? You know, go punt gnomes and curse at giant worms."

He chuckles before responding. "Very sorry, Worm, very sorry. My presence will no longer dampen your…usual burial practices."

At that, he heads back to the road with his two friends close behind.

"I must say, though, you best hurry," He flicks his hand at me, "he is almost making you seem appealing."

He turns away from me. The undead man marches down the road, his dogs loyally at his sides. Nathanos Marris, how I hate you sometimes.

However, he is right. I must finish this.

Quickly I draw my shovel from my side, and let the handle whip across the side of my face. As it moves I catch a few markings near the loop at the bottom end of the handle. They are markings of the wielder prior. A weapon lost from a monster. A villain of these lands...

_N.B._

Nate Blackwood.

My father...


	3. My King

Yes, the initials of my father. He was not a famous man.

_You know he was not famous. He knows he was infamous_.

Not many remember his name. Actually, only I remember his name.

_You only know it. He remembers his father's name._

I sigh at the voices in my head before promptly driving the spade into the dirt. I take a moment before letting the thoughts of my father return.

Nathaniel "Muck" Blackwood. The Eastern Plaguelands' gravedigger. Gravedigger, indeed. He did what his title implied, dug graves. No one came to him. He was summoned by the towns, he dug the hole, and placed the body in. He did his job.

He did his job well

My mother always told me when father buried a body it was as if he was burying one of his own. Each step taken was a careful as the last. He did his duty with the utmost of dedication. He did it for the people. He did it for the depressed family, for the weeping widow, for the crying child…he…

Ah, that is enough of that.

All that is important now is that I, Hope Blackwood, son of Nate Blackwood, carry on my father's duty. My hand extends forward gripping the old handle tightly. A slight jerk and the tool breaks free from the soil's grasp.

Dirt cracks and tumbles clumsily to the ground.

For a second I hold that which has given ending to many a tale. That which has sung the dark sound of death a thousand times over. The item that closed the chapters of heroes, finished the tales of villains, and brought equality to both.

Weightlessly the weapon rocks back and forth. The tip of the blade dangles calmly above all. Here, it waits, as it has thousands of times over. Waits for the force needed to strike the surface. Waits like a pen to paper, eagerly anticipating the unfolding of this man's final chapter.

Gripping it firmly, I let the essence of the spade fill my soul. I have done this numerous times prior. The same moment before the blade is dropped. The same moment of reluctance before the hammer is felled. The same…

_You are prepared for this. He is ready._

Take a breath, Hope. Steady. Ready…

As my body prepares for the earthen assault, a sudden dizziness rattles my endeavors. Pressure pulverizes the inner-sanctum of my skull. Pockets of unyielding agony stress the limits of my flesh and drive my mind into frenzy.

The pain intensifies, all else lost. The agony crushes my cavity, all thoughts narrow. The anguish is overwhelming. And then, as my body reels, a deep, booming voice devours all thoughts, vanquishes all concentration and becomes all I know…

_You are mine…_

Frosty chills clutch my head, the words spilling from them icy damnation. Every syllable slipped sends volleys of freezing terror. The voice is not of my own…and torments my very existence. It echoes within my skull a dozen times before fading; taking with it the horrific pangs that torture me so.

My fingers press against my temples, the pressure subsiding. Palms stroke the sides of my face, the despair faded. Eyes shift in their sockets, nothing new to behold. But it is with my ears with the true disturbance lies….

"So cold…"

A voice calls to me. A voice that is not limited to the scope of my quasi-serenity. A voice that whispers as if feet away.

"So very cold…"

That…that voice sounds close. That voice…

"How did I become so cold …?"

Creeping down, my vision moves. That cannot be. Sitting upright, the epitome of the imposable positioned impossibly. Palms facing his once lifeless face, he attempts to decipher his dilemma…

"Where did the warmth go?"

I stand upright in a hurry. Baffled orbs shift back and forth as they behold the unbelievable. That boy is dead. There is no way he has the strength to hold himself. The wounds on his body were far too grand.

"Where did it all go?" Sorrow coats his words. Depression drowns his demeanor.

I am losing it. Losing it.

_You never had it. He lost it years ago._

I have truly lost my mind. How can he be talking? How can he be alive? I must know!

"Elf, how…how are you speaking?"

He doesn't speak a word. He doesn't emit a single sound. His shifting eyes, their disbelief evident, lock upon me. He examines my person, searching for answers for unknown questions. Then, oddly, his head slips forward – his chin pressed against his chest.

Suddenly he begins to shake. Eyes of gray fade to white as the orbs in his head roll backwards. His head tilts back for a second before it shoots forward. I do not know what is happening…

"He…has been looking for you." Quietly, as if whispering to himself, he speaks. "He has been hunting for you." Barely audibly words scream sinister auras. His words yearn for more than his own self. His words...hunt...for me…

"He wants his army!" Violently, his once titled face cocks rearward. His anguish lost, rage replacing in its wake. "He wants his champion!"

Lunging forward, he strikes while my guard is naught. Frosty fingers wrap around my vest, their chill permeating the leathery fabric with ease. Horror floods my person. I am incapable of any reaction, any counter say for my bemused stare.

The blood elf draws to me, the once overwhelming aroma forgotten, "His armies descend upon these lands! His armies march against the living!" Fingers creep up my chest, crushing cloth with every inch moved. Lifeless eyes burn, their fury felt fully, "His wrath is upon you!"

Dead hands slap against the sides of my face; every wrinkle, every crusty fold of skin scratching the edges of my smooth flesh. Inches away, his face draws to mine. He quiets. His tone lessens. Sorrow returns once again, intensifying each word spewed, "He wants his…champion…"

Intense orbs gleam. His words speak bluntly, while his eyes scream a thousand stories. There is no desire for reasoning or rationale within his sight. He simply wants me. He merely savors my person. And he demands a response with sheer intimdation…

Uncontrollably, my lips break, my maw sunders, and frightened words plummet from my throat, "Who is he looking for?" The only idea, the only thought that crosses my mind is that. It is what the man has burned into my soul, and what has wrought my sanity.

Orbs glisten as the question I ask is the one he so waited for. Lips quiver, my line quenching his once parched palette. And a tongue slaps the interior of his mouth, spewing forth, "His champion..." He pauses, his fingers digging into my flesh. "His champion!" Fear is vomited as passionate words, "The man forged with the dark souls of his lieutenants! It is the man born from a necromancer!"

Fingers are released. Palms no longer press. But his hands still float at the sides of my head, their distance drawing hairs to their hands, "It is the gravedigger! It is…you!"

Malicious, yet profound words wrap upon my mind. They are the same the nerubian spider shouted at me at the ruins of Darrowshire. But now, my ignorance is naught. He speaks…the truth…

Falling upon the soil, his tattered robes molding against the dead ground, the man loses strength. Say for the will of his tongue, "He made you! You gave you your mind! Your powers! He made your very soul! Hope Blackwood, you are the Lich King's truest soldier! Return to him! Return or be returned! It is your choice!"

Gargling cackles eject from his throat as vile laughter. He rolls upon the dirt, hysteria enveloping his soul. "But be warned, the master is coming! And by the true wrath of the Lich King, this world will burn! And with it…your fate shall be delivered!"

Time itself slows. Reality bends upon the elf, all else ridden naught. All I can savor, its taste horrific, is his person. All I can hear, its sound vile, is his constant laughter. All I can feel, numbed fully, is lost to the moment.

I make to scream, but my lungs languish. I make to run, but my strength unwilling. I make to flee, but my legs are weary. There is nothing I can do. Nothing left, but the broken form of a bewildered man.

And his terrifyingly truthful words…

And, as I wither upon this field, a lone thought strangulates my sanity. A single notion unwraps all entanglements and guides my being. Return or be returned. It is my choice. Return or be returned. It is my choice!

_You must use your will then! He must stand!_

It is…my choice…

_You must use it! He must!_

It is…mine…

Suddenly, all time returns to normality. All moments return to that once lost. All I can savor, its taste painful, is the now lifeless man. All I can feel, the pain rather intense, is the sudden jerk of my arm. All I can hear, louder than life, is the cry of one forsaken, "WORM, what are you doing?" Nathanos drags me to my feet. "Wake up!"

I blink once, twice, at the dull-eyed, clearly dead elf upon the field.

"Worm, you ninny, are you daft or blind?"

Turning to Nathanos, I take in his faceless wonder. Instantly, he is lost to that which he speaks of. Behind him, a rider and his horse shoot with all haste. A second rider rockets in and out of sight. Foot-ridden soldiers drop sword and shield while their scarlet armor clanks against their distraught forms.

I have not a clue where they came from; whether it was their own rapid motion, or my own ignorance in the pass of time, I do not know. All I know is that they are few in number, but their intensity is profound in all quantitative aspects.

"Run! Run for all it's worth!" A crier upon horseback lets boom his desperate, horrified voice. He howls to those fleeing, and those unable to do such. "Death has come to these lands! Look to the skies to find your demise!" His voice travels, his flight swift. "Avalon is lost! Light's Hope is a fleeting dream! His armies march unopposed!"

Eyes intently watch the entity of grand proclamations whip down a dirt path of terror's plotting. He holds low and rides with a single thought of escape. But as he slips upon a bridge, his call fading with his ride, he emits the last lines for all to dwell upon, "The return of the Lich King is upon us, children of the light! Pray for all the light's glory! Pray...for all it's worth!"

Carried by the wind, the scarlet crier is gone; devoured by the horizon. His words linger, ricocheting within my mind as a horrific menace. My eyes latch upon the bridge remarks as silence sweeps the land. Footsteps cease as the few that fled fulfill their escape. Treading stomps vanish, the riders long forgotten.

All that remains is the screeching silence. All that remains is the trembling terror within my pounding chest. All that remains…is the rage of an undead man…

"Worm, you have your fill?" His boney palm gently slaps the side of my cheek. "You ready to go now? Or am I going to have to carry you?"

I peer back at the angry individual, complete dismay all mine to convey. "What is happening?" Simple words that speak all I embrace.

His other hand shoots forward and grips my jaw. "Worm, what do you mean what is happening? That man was pretty clear. Do you need a pop-up book for this?" Instinctively, I make to look back from whence they came, but Nathanos' grips is fierce, "No, Worm, don't you go thinking of the past!" He throws his eyes upon mine. "If your tiny brain failed to realize, the legions of the Lich King are truly marching this way. Regardless of your belief, I guarantee you their arrival is upon us any minute."

I simply blink, the proper response...

Severity and unyielding certainty radiate from his words, "Now either you follow me, or I let them have you. And let me tell you, nothing scares me more than imaging you, the great wanderer, becoming a mindless zombie. Simply horrifying." I blink, my weakness shown. He, however, lacks such a trait and clenches my jaw to show his rather apparent domination. Unexpectedly, he barks the words that stir me into action, "Nathanos Marris never allows anything to scare Nathanos Marris. Nothing! Now MOVE!"

Without hesitation, I sling my gun over my shoulder, rip the spade from the ground and spring after the already speeding undead and his companions. His movement is remarkable. He moves as if graced by some unseen force. He moves…as if blessed by the dark lady herself.

Gazing at the man, I move faster to catch him, but such an idea is foolish. The land becomes blur to our sprint. Trees become brown blotches. Shrubs expand and shrink as if nothing. All feels as if a dream, or a never-ending nightmare.

It is at this very moment that I notice the man before me stumble - the one thought invincible has a moment of weakness. Writhing, he grips his skull and flails wildly. Some sinister strike has overtaken him for Marris to reel in pain. And he moves as I had when the dark voice came. He reels as if being tortured by the voice...as I had...

"Get out of my head!" He spins, his feet dancing a dance of horrors, while his voice rains equal terrors, "I will not serve you! I will not serve you again!" His teeth gnarl together, "I am Nathanos Marris, and I have rid myself of you!"

Calming, he controls his pace. No longer does he thrash as if anguished. His shoulders hang low, while heavy, decaying lungs feed useless pockets of tainted air into his body. He makes not a sound, say for the deep panting and shuffling of his sloughing feet.

I take a few steps towards him, my fear of him miniscule to his nightmares, "Nathanos. You alright?"

Silence.

"Nathanos?"

Deeply, he sucks in air like a punctured windpipe, "It has been too long since I heard that voice, and its mere existence too soon for these bones." Harsh, focused words startled my motion. "We must make haste to my bastion. We must warn the Queen of the rising threat." Half his face fills my sight. A single orb locks with mine, and its intimidating gaze is more than enough to get my attention. "If not for their survival then for our own."

He hesitates momentarily, his rage returning, "Move, Worm!"

With those words, my legs glide forward, all energy exerted. Worn lungs expand and collapse, expand and collapse, expand, collapse, expand collapse. A heart pounds a melody of weary design. Muscles ache, their limits reached. I must be strong…I must continue…

And so we move, the road covered in a few fleeting seconds. Time is nothing as we near the end of this route's path. A gargling flume roars from ahead, the rather active rivulet producing its own hyperbola of its meager size. Finally, after what felt like a short eternity we bound to this road's limit and approach the stone construct.

It is here…where my legs grow weak and my will broken. Stopping at the edge, I give the bridge a hard look over. Each brick is daunting. Every line of cracked mortar is a superstition beyond reckoning. Its entirety…overwhelming…

"Worm? What are you…" he silences himself, the apparent excuse of my halting evident, "are you serious, Worm?"

I swallow harshly, all fears upon this normal, jaded bridge. "Nathanos. This is the first time I have ever left these lands. The first…"

He sighs, "Worm, there is a first time for everything. And trust me; this is a good time for a first."

"Of course…but…"

But this is more than a simple crossing. This is the end of the legacy that is my normality. A finale to my continued familiarity of said fields. A conclusion to all traditions, all maintained regularity. An end…

Suddenly, I fierce pressure builds upon my upper-arm and my heart sinks. Without saying a word, he tugs me. Uncontrollably, my once firm feet are unable to brace their stance. Falling forward, I trip the line, breaking some unseen sensor that sets off a proximity bomb in my mind.

I close my eyes, fearing more than the simple crossing of this line. I close my eyes, dreading more than the simplicity of traversing the unknown. I close my eyes, praying that I will open them to some past, some prior moment with this all a dream. I close my eyes, and hope…

But it is with my own internal comforting where my calming is found, "Worm, it is a grand day!" I peer up at the undead; the next words curt and sarcastic, yet oddly soothing in only a way Nathanos' rage can conjure. "Congratulations! You have discovered the Western Plaguelands!"

For me…that is a feat of the grandest strength…

And I am going to need all the strength I can get…


	4. Confusion

The grass looks the same…

"Fools! The daft morons actually stayed at the Chapel?" Nathanos' voice echoes upon my ignoring ears. "You would assume a wall of undead monsters would have motivated them to finally leave!" Crackling grass allows me to visualize his shuffling feet as he paces back and forth.

I ignore him again. The trees look the same. Even the air smells the same. Nothing is different. But…I have never been here before.

_You never have. He has not, but he is not upset._

I am upset_. _

_You are not. He is n…._

Fine! I guess I am not truly upset I left…

Alas, my void is shattered once more...

"Mr. Marris, calm yourself. Our commanders know well what they are doing." The new addition to our party clears his throat as he gets ready to continue. "They sent the bulk of the troops stationed furthest west to the city of Hearthglen. The Scarlet fools may not have a clue, but they still try."

Nathanos replies, "Ah, but that does not explain why they stayed to die. The numbers were far too…"

"We were not going to completely abandon the outpost. Those who opted to stay will hold their ground." He pauses, "All we can do now is hope for a miracle…"

Nathanos Marris grunts loudly. "Miracles are scarce upon these lands, fool. You do not hope for what will not come. You pray for that."

My mind wanders again. The sky….even the sky has the same tint of yellow and orange. So strange…

_Worm._

Such strange wildlife. No giant worms.

_Worm_

There are huge spiders instead. I hate bugs!

"Worm!" Instantly I draw back to reality, turn and gaze upon the screaming Nathanos. He is a short distance away from me, "It is apparent that you cannot keep control of your senses, so…" His hand drifts to one of his dogs. "This friend here will keep you company. Not that you need any more…"

He twists and makes for the road. Marching feet drag him down the road with only one companion at his side. As he moves, I look back down at the pup he ordered to stay here. Did he really give me one of his pups to watch?

_You idiot, he gave it to you to protect you. He needs protecting…he really…_

"I swear, worm, if you do not learn how to walk, I will make it carry you by your throat."

I blink. Instantly, I notice the pack is a good distance ahead. Bah. These voices make my life difficult. I sigh, knowing full well I am going to have to run. No point in whining about it, so I take to a full jog.

Only a few seconds pass before I catch up to them. Nathanos stands in the middle, while three soldiers stand to his sides; two to his left and one to his right. I come up between Nathanos and the lone soldier on the right. Once I am positioned, I toss a weak glance at the other two additions to this little party.

Unfortunately, my inquisitive eye catch Marris first. Nathanos still has the same look on his face. That same look. Well. If you can call a faceless man's expression an actual _look_. Anyway, my curious eyes shift from his lackluster demeanor and pases to the younger two at Nathanos's Left. I recognize them. But where from?

Ah, yes, guards of the Chapel. Brothers of the chapel, Jon Chapel and Mark Chapel – they renamed themselves after the place where they fought so fiercely. The one to the far left, the one with bright white hair, blue eyes and pale skin is Jon. Closer to Nathanos rests Mark. He looks nothing like his brother. He has brown hair, brown eyes and is much taller. Quite a striking difference, yet few point it out.

Many overlooked them, but I remember them definitely. They were very kind to me. Yes, very kind to me.

_You need some kindness. He needs something._

They needed someone, and I was there to aid them. In return they called me a true "hero." Actually, I was rather confused at that. Most people do not call the one to bury their mother a hero.

But they did. I did not deserve it.

_You did. He might have._

I don't know. All I know is that they are brothers. The brothers of the Chapel.

Once again my wondrous orbs dart away from them, across Nathanos, and to my right side. There stands an older gentleman. His eyes catch mine for a second, and I am unable to let my mind wander before he speaks.

"Blackwood, right?" He pants hard as we move.

I nod. "Yes, that is me." There is a brief pause as I recall the familiar man's name, "You are Carlin Redpath. Or am I mistaken?"

The older man with brown hair, mustache, beard and a large bald spot replies with a simple nod.

I make to talk, but nothing comes out. Actually, no one talks after I fail to. There is only silence.

For a few minutes we walk forward, not a one of us talking. It is rather odd none of us are speaking. You would assume when I found actual living voices that they would be active.

_You would assume that. He assumes a lot._

It is rather bothersome. I was hoping at least Carlin would speak to me. We have seen each other very day for years, but have never talked. I was hoping a trip together would allow us to speak to one another.

For months now I have been meaning to talk to him about something…something very important.

_You need to do it. He needs some help to talk. You need to talk. _

They are right.

Loudly I clear my throat and I begin to speak. "Carlin…time is short, so, well, all I have to say is sorry." Random, I know. But has been a long time coming.

He slows for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean? What do you have to be sorry for?"

Disappointment flows through my veins. "Well. I tried, but...

"Yes?" He anxiously spits.

"Well. I couldn't find her body…"

His feet stop in his drags, and he glares at me. "What?"

My eyes drift from his for a second. "Pamela, your niece, I couldn't bury her. Mainly because of the lack of a body, but because…I couldn't find her dolly."

His face face contorts. An array of emotions sweep his wrinkled brow. I am not certain what he is thinking, yet I know damn well what. His lips curl and twist to a disgruntled frown. Another second passes, and his once gleaming eyes sorrow. Alas, his grief lasts for but a moment. Then, like so many others, it is replaced by that best fit.

Anger...

His hands grab my shirt, his eyes watering at the comment. "Boy, why do you speak of this?"

I am startled at first, but manage to answer, "Because you are the only one I know that lived from Darrowshire. I buried so many, even the ghouls wandering the lands. All of them told me to find one man. You." I shrug. "One even told me her name. Pamela. And of her dolly..."

My head wobbles a bit as he shakes me. "What need was it to tell me now?"

Again I shrug, his rage overwhelming. I swallow harshly before feebly replying, "I figured we might die any minute...so...better now than as a ghoul."

The rage in his eyes burns. Gnarled teeth reveal his nearing violent outburst, but oddly, he relaxes. Sighing loudly, he looks down and then back up to me.

He smirks then begins to talk. "Pamela, yes I know her fate and all the story with it. That is a story I do not wish to recall…" he hesitates, "...but...not one I can forget."

At that he sighs, turns back towards the road and we continue moving. The rest of them sit in silence. I am not sure why. Or...maybe...

_You are not sure. You are though. He is quite sure. He knows quite well why._

Yes, I do. I am fool, I should have never mentioned it, and what a horrible time, too. Just thought maybe it would work it.

_You did think that. He is quite slow._

You guys told me to!

_You are right. But he needs to continue speaking. _

I should. No. I need to.

Once again I nerviously dislodge an unfelt blockage in my throat, "That was stupid of me, Carlin. Forgive me. It is just that I take what I do very personally, despite its uselessness." I pause for a moment, "Besides the voices in my head, the job is all I have."

I pause to gather my thoughts. "That and my people skills are lacking. Possibly because all I have are the voices. They are terrible conversationalists."

For a brief second there is a silence and then laughter. Carlin and the Brothers laugh loudly. The laughter continues for an awkward minute before Carlin slaps my shoulder and sighs.

"Lad, we are all well aware of your situation."

His eyes dart to mine then to the ground. "The tale of the girl no longer truly bothers me. I have dozens of wandering heroes tell me her depressing story. Each time it numbs me a little, but when you told me…" The smile quickly becomes a frown, "I have seen you fight upon that field every day just to bury the one you kill."

He pauses to stop the tears I can see coming. "We have seen each other every day for years, but never talked. Of course we exchanged nods, but never spoke." His eyes focus upon mine. "Long story short, my boy, for the first time ever…you told me about the girl as if you truly cared."

There is another moment of silence before we turn ours head back to the trek "I am sorry, Hope."

Without turning to him I smile. "Nothing to apologize for, I under…"

He interrupts me, "No, Hope, I do not think you truly understand…"

Suddenly, Nathanos' voice dislodges us from our talking. "Enough! Please, will you two stop with the chatter? We are being chased by an army unlike anything before and all you two can think about are sensitive, cuddly memories?"

He stares straight ahead while shaking his head back and forth in disgust. "Bah, you sicken me."

I reply, "Sorry, Marris, just figured…"

He spins to me. "You figured wrong, worm. Clear your head of the useless thoughts that clutter it so. Think of now, and what is coming." Again he faces forward.

Of now? Ok, of now. Think, fool, think. An army of undead. It is coming, thousands of them are. We are being chased. I swallow hard. Chased by an army of the damned. Of the vast undead. I feel my heart begin to race.

Blast it, Nathanos. I liked the sad, cuddly memories better than this...


	5. Wriggler

_You are being chased. He is of the chased variety. You are being chased very closely…he is…isn't he?_

I turn and check behind us.

Nothing. All that rests behind is a road, some critters and nature, yet an overwhelming sense of paranoia fills my veins. Well. A combination of Paranoia and confusion. I don't actually see anything. Maybe I am just blind. Maybe...

"Nathanos…?"

"Worm, what do you want?"

I stop and peer back down the road we came. They gain on me, but I have to know. My fingers slip through my hair before I speak, "Where is this army you speak of?"

Without hesitation the undead figure jerks in his spot. Gravel grinds to his shifting feet. In flash he jogs towards me, passes me, and grunts. He twitches and throws his arms into the air.

"I swear I could hear them trailing right behind us…" His hands slap his head hard. "The voice…his voice is so loud. I could hear it as if he was standing behind me…" Awkwardly he looks at all of us. "You cannot hear it? Focus, you idiots! Focus..."

"Mr. Marris," Carlin shouts, "I believe you are the only one here who needs to focus." Slight pause. "The army will take hours to cross that bridge. It was noted earlier…"

Nathanos walks back towards us. "But the voice, the roars, they all sound so clear. I must be losing my mind."

He looks over to me. "It seems that you attract like minds to yours, worm." In a hurry he shoots past me and makes for the other three. As he shifts by, mumbles escape his mouth "So close, I swear."

His feet dig into the dirt as he scans the field before us. The rest of us, however, simply stand here and look at each other in confusion. Of course, there is no blame here. We are all confused.

Carlin and I lost ourselves in the confusion of ignorant reality while Nathanos lost himself in the illusionary reality of his own. The poor Brothers got lost in the confusion of the rest.

But in the end we are all lost in the true reality. Lost in the fear…

The fear is here. I am not sure if we can feel it, or if we are so dislodged from reason that we no longer know it exists. Maybe it is confusing our logic. I do not know. I, however, can feel it.

_You are full of it. He reeks of terror._

And from the looks of Marris and the rest, they are too.

"Gather yourselves, whelps!" Nathanos yells into the air.

Spinning in his direction, my eyes lift from the unfocused gaze and plant themselves upon the decaying fellow. He is now running across the field, his pup close behi…

OUCH.

Looking down, the little dog wiggles its large body and sticks its tongue out at me. A patch of ruffled pant sticks out towards his face. Did he really bite me? I shift my limb around. Thankfully there is no blood, but that darned pooch bit me! I know it!

_You are certain. He just sounds like a wuss._

I am not a wuss.

_You are a sissy then. He is both?_

Quiet, both of you, before I have...

"Help..." a sudden, weak voice catches my attention.

I blink. I catch sight of the pack as they dart towards a small lump at the side of the road. Nathanos swiftly hunkers over the man. The rest of us encircle the mound the ground and peer hopelessly down. Rustling, the wounded figure tries to gather himself. Blood flows from multiple gashes on his body. I have seen plenty of individuals in this shape to know the outcome.

_You have seen tons of them like this. He knows the end._

He coughs and Nathanos places his hand on the wounded man's chest, "Boy, what got you?"

Wincing in agony the figure turns to Marris, "It moved so quickly…never seen it before…" He coughs, "A dark cloud…a dark…" Blood oozes from the corner of his mouth.

Nathanos rocks the figure gently. "Boy, do not lose it. Fight it!"

Shaking, the man fights the inevitable. "All of them…went…south…" His eyes drift to Nathanos. "We…are…doomed…the King…he will…win…"

Again, Nathanos rocks him. "Do not say that! Do not say that!"

Violent shakes jerk the boy on the ground. His pale eyes look to the sky. "I want…to…

He coughs, "I want to go…home…" Quickly, the boy's eyes sweep the sky. He searches for answers to all questions. He searches for life. He only finds death.

_You rest well, hero. He shall rest_.

Nathanos sighs and shakes his head. Halfheartedly, he lets the child rest upon the chilled soil. He hesitates before attempting to stand. He, however is stopped short by a hand thought lifeless...

My eyes drift back down. The boy shakes, his eyes hollow. "He…can…SEE YOU. Bow to him! Bow to the one TRUE KING!"

Responding in a flash, Marris draws one of his axes from his belt. His delivery is flawless; he instantly silences the boy. Silences his face, chest and soul. He removes the blade from the boy, and in a hurry, jumps to his feet.

He glares at us. "We must get moving!"

Carlin replies, "Where do you plan to go? Hearthglen will not take us, and we cannot rest upon these grounds."

Jon takes a step forward. "What about the post to the south? Can we…"

Carlin shakes his head. "The boy said something about them going south…I am assuming he meant the Scourge."

"Really, Carlin" Nathanos snaps, "You think?"

"Watch yourself, Marris..."

And at that, I begin looking around me. First, my eyes catch the dead boy. And I instantly ignore all sounds besides my thoughts. We should bury him, we really should.

_You really should. He should do it_.

Where should we place him?

_You should bury him on the road. He should bury him in that empty field over there._

I turn, noticing the large, empty farm. Actually, that looks like a good place to rest too. We can drag the body there, give it a proper end and take a nap.

_You created a grand plan. He needs to stop thinking and start doing._

Moving forward I pass the few arguing and get to work. Carefully, I reach down and grab the shoulders of the now doubly deceased lad. I can feel Nathanos' glare for a brief second before they go back to arguing with each other.

The body is limp and heavy, like always. I glance backwards, grab the arms, and begin shuffling backwards. I navigate as I have done hundreds of times and dodge dozens of trees and short stumps.

Peering back I notice that we are halfway.

_You are moving fast. He is almost here now._ _You are moving quickly. He is nearing the wall. You are sprinting backwards sir! He is there!_

I stop and wipe my brow. "Phew, that was a easier yet harder than I remember. I have gotten good at this. You have! He has!" Oops, that slipped out.

My words echo before a profound, eerie silence follows. Not a voice, nor bickering comment can be heard. Great...

"Worm…what are you doing?"

I hesitate before tossing my sight upon them. The four of them stare at me oddly; probably the random outburst that has brought me the attention.

_You think? He does not think_.

"Get away from that farm, you fool! The undead cauldrons feed the Scourge there!" He begins to wave his hands at me. I stare at him and then turn to the field. Nothing is there. The mighty cauldron he must be speaking of rests sideways, its contents emptied.

Without turning I yell back. "Looks empty to me."

Silence. Silence then a loud array of footsteps. "Blackwood, you crazy man, you answered our question!" Carlin shouts this time. "The only thing that bothers me about this…" He comes up beside me. "Where did they go?"

I shrug and make to speak, but Jon beats me to the punch. "South. Like the boy said, south." The brothers move forward, taking to the field.

Nathanos shifts past me, but while he does he throws me a nod. He passes by the building and moves inside. Carlin slaps my shoulder and he too throws me a nod. I am not sure why they do. I was just doing my job.

Oh, speaking of which…HEY!

Swatting at the dog, I push him away from the corpse. The pup barks at me, takes a few steps backwards then flops onto his belly. His tail wags back and forth while his paws shift under his jaw.

While watching the dog, I reach back and grab the shovel. His furry body shakes, and I prepare for his sneaky move. Suddenly, he makes a terrible coughing sound. A surge of fluid and a heavy, round object bounces downwards. It falls from his mouth and rolls a few feet forward. Before it can come to a rest the pup snatches it in its jaws.

Is that...a human skull?

_You can pretend it is a hairball. He can just ignore it._

I shudder as the dog gnaws at the...hairball's...fringes.

"Dog, that was gross. And that means something coming from me." With the skull...hairball...still in his teeth he barks at me.

I shake my head, "What?" Suddenly a thought crosses my mind, and I tap the handle, "You know what, I think I need to name you. No, I am not going to call you what Nathanos did. He is a terrible namer."

Gripping the handle I drive the blade into the soil. "You seem to like to stare at me, so, I shall call you…Watcher."

_Watcher? You have to be kidding. He needs to name it Pukey._ "

No, that isn't good."

The dog shifts wildly in its spot and digs up dust with its sides. Again I tap the blade and look at the dog, "Actually, I shall call you Wriggler."

_You are terrible at names. He is awful._

Well I do not care. The pup is named Wriggler and that is final. Focusing back down, I scoop a pile of dirt up, throw it to the side, and then drive the blade back down.

Loudly I can hear Nathanos from inside. "Hurry up, Worm, it is going to be dark soon."

Ignoring him, I continue with my job. After a few minutes something I have not seen in a while slides over the mound. The streak extends back and out of my sight. My body twists while I gaze backwards to see where this marvelous sight is coming from.

Just barely breaking through a gap in the clouds over the mountaintops is a bolt of light that illuminates the land. Such a beautiful sight. Been so long since I have seen the light.

Despite all of our bickering and foolish arguing, nature still comes to calm our rage. Despite our wandering and answer seeking, the stars come to end our confusion. For just this brief moment I feel…calm, focused. So marvelous.

In a flash it vanishes. Gone, leaving behind a sea of darkness. I know the bickering will return and we will be once again lost in a sea of confused reasoning, but for that moment…there was peace.

_You know with night all will grow worse? He knows that with the night something will come. You know the Scourge will come? He knows…_

I know, but I like this moment.

I drive the blade back into the soil. I really do.


	6. Marris' Stead

"You cannot escape!" It strangles my being; entangles me with its chilling grasp! "It is only a matter of time before you succumb to my might!"

It will not leave me!

_You are frightened!_

"Reach deep within, let my call guide you!" His body floats before me, only feet away. "You will obey me, or you will fall!"

My hands cannot block him out. My hands do nothing.

_You do nothing. He is afraid! You must stand against him! He must fight the darkness! You must focus! He will!_

No, I cannot! Reeling to his frightening pose, my body curls inward. I want the warmth back. I want to be home again. I want to go home.

_You fool, you have no home! He has only himself to rely upon._

"Obey!" Closer, I can feel him move closer. The creator of the Scourge looms over my body.

Unable to even peer upon him, I lie here. The chill from his very essence wafts upon me, freezing to the bone. Return to me, warmth! Please, return! I hate the cold, I hate it so much!

_You must fight…_

"Everyone belongs to me! You and your worthless adventurers shall kneel before me!"

_He must fight!_

"Obey me! Obey your Lich King!" He is all around me! Everywhere! All that remains here is me, by myself. All that remains is a broken spirit, enveloped by the dark. All that remains…

"Are us." That voice…that voice is one of mine. "Hope Blackwood, you are never alone."

Opening my eyes they scan upward. There the King stands, his dreaded self amongst a sea of black. But now there is another. Beside him a shaded, unshaped being exists.

"He, the one called Blackwood, has us."

Another figure appears next to the King. Both of them without true figure, but both are commanding in presence. Slowly, the two of them move in, their shapes closing in on the king. The vile fiend tries to move, but the other two close in.

"One day, you digger of graves…"

"He who gives honor to all…"

"You hero amongst commoners…"

"He will have to one day…

"You are destined…"

"He will have to…release us."

Tearing open, my eyes see clearly once again. Warm, beads of sweat roll down my forward in waves. My chest pulls in and out at an intense speed. My heart races. My lungs heave.

Another dream. I have grown to loathe them, but this one was different, so very different. I do not know what to make of it, but at the same time it speaks so clearly.

_You are just delirious. He is crazy, it was just a dream._

Of course, what am I getting so worked over about? It was just a stupid dream. I raise arm and quickly remove the sweat from my forehead. I rest in the dark room for a second, not truly taking in the sight around. No, right now I am busy within my head, searching for answers.

_You will find them. He will, just not now._

"Worm." Nathanos' voice creeps its quiet way across the walls and to me. "It is almost daybreak."

Turning to the bordered window, I gaze at the small bit of hazy light that breaks through the cracks. The undead fool is right. It looks like we were able to get a night sleep in. However, that seems odd to me. I was expecting some mass invasion or something of like that.

"Worm, I am quite surprised to see you up." Looks like Nathanos had an odd discovery himself.

"Why is that?" Stretching, I try to get comfortable against this wooden object while I speak.

From the shadows I can see him shrug. "Figured you would be the last one up. You did not strike me as an early bird."

"No, I strike you more as the thing that attracts the early bird."

An odd sound of what sounds like laughter emits as he speaks. "Touché, worm, touché."

Crawling back the window, he lets his thoughts wander back to the outside. I, however, let mine flow inwards. Yes, so many thoughts within this head of mine. Each one waves its hand before the sightless eye in my brain, but only one deserves my attention; it is such an old memory, too. I close my eyes, letting an image form.

Upon a field is where I stand. Upon a field years past is where my mind flows.

To my sides are soldiers of the Dawn also stand, each one staring in the same direction as I. Our vision floats towards a small hill with an equally as small figure upon it. Our sights planted on a tiny figure amongst the greatness that is this beautiful land.

Our focus on Nathanos Marris.

We tried to talk him out of staying there. We tried so hard, but he is so stubborn. So, sadly, that is where he stood, next to a small farmhouse, on a small hill, in the middle of nowhere.

So as he stood, we turned, ignored, and left. The few of us marched upon that road carrying our defensive items as if they were going to truly help. I, however, found myself holding my head, the voices within screaming loudly and painfully. I held it firmly as if that was truly going to help.

Unfortunately when I regained my senses, I found that I was too was alone. Yelling at me, the officer pointed at a small hill amongst a large field. He then told me to stay here and make myself useful. He told me to be a good distraction. So, I stood, alone, as a tiny figure amongst this beautiful land.

But, of course, I was no fool, I went to the mountains. I am not sure even to this day why I went to them, but I did.

Y_ou know well why you did. He knows, we told him to._

Yeah, ok, maybe I do remember, but that is besides the point. Anyway, I climbed the rather steep slopes, and made my way up. Finally, after a few hours, I found a good spot to rest. There I flopped upon the ground, flung my backpack down and laid my gun in my lap.

For a moment I let my eyes drift to the metal chamber. Moving my fingertips across the finely crafted item, I took in the entire perfect tool. The magnificent craftsmanship was almost overwhelming, but it was something else that impressed me. Scratched in the lower portion of shaft were two small letters. From the shape and design of the letters it was obvious someone unskilled in the art did this. But I did not care. They were more than enough for me, those two letters.

_N.M._

They did not match the gun at all. They did not fit in with the perfection of the weapon. But that was fine. They were still perfect to me.

The next thing I remember was them. My vision left the item and changed back to the hill. Sweeping in, they marched furiously at that small hill. Charging forward, their bodies broke easily as they tried to march on the small hill. I watched the entire fight. First they sent a small pack of skeletons, maybe a dozen. They didn't even make it to the base before they stopped moving.

Another wave was sent, this one larger. Shooting, he broke them. Hitting, he destroyed them. Such a sight it was! Arrows fell through the air like winged justice. Bodies crumbled to the might of their judgment and the strength of their precision. That was his hill! He was to stand upon or be buried under it!

Suddenly, figures begun moving in from behind. Flanking cowards! How dare they! I raised my gun, dragging the lens to my eye. Focusing, I let my vision narrow on my target. At first I did not recognize who it was, but then it hit me.

My squad...

Looks like they made a better distraction than I. Armor torn and body shattered the officer of my group limped aimlessly up the backside of the hill. While he did, I aimed. The gun rumbled. He fell, smashing his head into the ground. Good riddance.

Shifting, another soldier I knew well moved. But I let my anger guide me. I remember the names he called me.

Again I focused, this time letting slip one word. _weirdo_ He stopped moving. Another came. _fool._ I did not miss him. A third, _crazy idiot._ I will not bury him. All the names they called me. All the hate they built in me. All the sweet vengeance the gods let me have.

Then something I will remember appeared in left corner of my vision. Barreling up the hill, a monster of sewn flesh, and three arms charged. His entrails hung limply from his stomach, dripping a horrible fluid as his tiny legs dragged him forward. Our hero's arrows punctured that large body, but did nothing.

He fired more, but the monster would not stop. The heroes' arm moved in a blur, but it was not enough. He cannot stop him. The monster is at the top of the hill. More arrows, but it still comes! He must stop him! More arrows, but…I must help!

Aiming the gun, I focus upon the head, slam my finger and let a loud "click" break my soul. All I remember next was crawling backwards. Tears rolled down my face. The voices came, drowning my mind as equally as my sadness drenched my skin.

The hero did not win. He did not win.

Coming to, my eyes opened again, releasing with it one lone wanderer. Running down my cheek it cooled as it moved. Quickly it passed my lips and run to my chin. There it clung for a moment like a bad memory. Then regretfully, it flew down, vanishing from all senses.

Sadly, where it disappeared a haunting memory was formed.

I feel my body calm again. Glancing across the room I notice Nathanos still gazing outside. From here it appears as if he has not moved an inch since I last looked. However, unlike him, I have grown uncomfortable where I rest. Shuffling in my spot I move an inch, but am interrupted as a cold object touches my arm.

My head shifts to see what has occurred and just barely I can make out my gun. Carefully, I pull it to my front and place it in my lap. Resting here I revel in its still wonderful, but now dulled, perfection. Just like before my favorite part are still the two letters that rest on the under side of the barrel.

At that, I peer upwards and throw a whisper to Nathanos. "I ran out of ammo."

Just slightly his head turns to me. His eyes lock with mine and narrow as he thinks. There is silence for a few more moments before he nods and looks back out the window. "

"I figured." He grunts. "Probably should have told you how many rounds fit in it at a time before I gave it to you."

I am not sure how he really knew what I was talking about, but I am guessing our equally as crazy minds do indeed think alike.

A smile stretches over my face, "Well, at least I got to kill those jackasses with it."

Again he makes an odd sound that I believe is laughter. I look at the gun again. My fingers glide across the indentations of the letters, and quickly I find myself looking at him again.

"Why did you give it to me?"

He shrugs. "You looked like you needed something to calm your focus, so, that was my favorite gun."

I reply, "That still does not answer why you gave it to me. There were plenty of soldiers that could have used it."

This time he looks back towards me, "I am not a huge fans of guns, personally. Yes, I own them for looks, but use? No." He pauses for a second, "That and I owed your father."

Owed my father? What does he mean? I know he knew my father, but owed? My father never got into and let others get into debt with him.

Y_ou know your father hated I.. He knows he hates borrowing. You must know why he owed your father. He must figure out why._

"Nathanos..."

"Yes?"

"My father did not believe in debt. How did you owe him?"

Glaring at me now, his eyes drift back and forth in his head. I hate when he does that. He is trying to read me, which, mind you, is hard to do when there are three voices to try to pick from.

_You cannot read us. He cannot read me, forget you two. You shut up. You shut it. You! He needs to focus, stop talking. No, you need to let us wander while I bash this fool with logic! He needs..._

ENOUGH.

Shaking my head, I focus on Nathanos, and from his look he is obviously confused. After a moment, he looks out the window then back at me. I am guessing he is searching for an answer. Maybe he doesn't have an answer to this question.

_You know he does. He knows, but maybe Nathanos doesn't want to tell him._

I get ready to speak, but a voice from my side interrupts me. "We both owed your father, lad." Carlin is now awake. "He did not tell you everything, my boy."

I turn to him, his eyes focused clearly upon me. I try to speak, but my mouth does nothing. Right now I am not sure what to do.

Y_ou are definitely not certain. He is not, and in all honesty...nor am I._

Carlin continues, "You see boy, we knew your father quite well." He coughs. "Well, over the years we became friends. And, eventually, we began to understand one another."

Nathanos takes over. "Correct. He was a good man. However, he was human...he had his flaws..." He gets ready to continue, but another friend beats him to the punch.

However, this friend knows no language we do. This friend barks loudly.

Bolting to his feet, Nathanos takes to the stairs, leaps over the railing, and vanishes out of sight. A thud follows.

Carlin stumbles to his feet and follows after him. I too leap forward, dash down the stairs and follow the other two out the now wide-open entrance. The glow from the land catches me off-guard for a moment, but then quickly I regain my composure.

"Help!"

A voice yells from my right. Instantly, I dart from the farm. I am close behind the other two and the dogs. I glance to my side, catching sight of a lone figure speeding across the road on horseback. He follows the road from the way we came. We move to the road as quickly as possible, hoping to intercept the man when he passes.

Suddenly, the horse's legs buckle, the man sent flying. His body smashes the stone path hard, and what appears to be a green sack breaks from his being and bounces towards us. We continue towards him, watching as he struggles to his feet. From that bounce, most people would not be getting back up. But he tries to run.

_You are right. He is being chased._

The ground explodes. A dark cloud emerges from the ground. Blurred black tears the sky and flies a dozen yards. It arches before descending upon the vulnerable figure. The boy shakes violently. Twitching, he wriggles on the ground before finally stopping. Shaking slightly, he finally comes to rest.

Over him a figure bends forward. Blades like fingers sparkle with death with every glint. Slowly the figure comes to in an upright stance, letting his partially tainted blades rest at his sides. They drip a thick red fluid, while the figure itself pukes a dark smoke from its entire body. It looks like a man, yet bears the matter of a black cloud.

None of us move. None of us say a thing.

Creeping the creature turns to us. He has seen us. Two gray patches emerge on his face. An extremely dark line appears near his chin. Stretching outward the line forms an arch. It is smiling. It is smiling a smirk of terror. It is smirking a smile of horror. It is revealing its taste for death.

A dark, slow laughter rumbles from his core. "Excellent." He pukes the dark cloud as it talks, "Some friends to play with."

Shaking oddly the figure appears to vibrate where he stands. I know this creature. Y_ou have seen it before. He has indeed had the displeasure of meeting one of its kinds before. _Yes, I have.

It was not an experience I was hoping to never recall, but I remember it. _You hate it. _I loathe this creature_. You despise its very existence. He hates it, and knows what it is._

This thing hunted me for weeks. It haunts my worst nightmares.

It is...shadow's death...


	7. Vacant

Rocks bounce across the dead grass. Feet tear the soil from its resting place. Legs fight fiercely to move. Torsos shift to find our what is moving. Lungs inflate and deflate rapidly. Hears beat wildly.

All while it moves. All while it chases.

_TITHBURRSSSH_

Dirt spurts lightly into the as the round tears through the brown flesh. While I sprint forward I drag my gun to me and attempt to reload. I dart past a tree, and attempt to duck. Branches sadly still manage to smack my face as I sweep past the barky structure. Wind rushes all around me, and the path fades from my sight.

Without hesitating I leap forward. Pain radiates from my shoulder as my side smashes into the dirt. The air above me bursts into a torrent of activity. I can feel it moving all around me. Wind dances across my rolling body. Suddenly, jolts of pain rush down my right arm.

As I roll to a stop, I notice a sickeningly black limb reaching down for me. Drips of fresh blood drop from the fingertips. The claws stretch down to finish the job, but its lunging attack drags it over and past me.

I grab my arm in attempts to stop the increasing warm sensation. From the looks it the blades just barely scratched me. Slowly I pull myself back to my feet. My eyes scan wildly back and forth as I hunt for the hunter.

Again it leaps. Jon jumps to the ground, his stomach crashing hard. Soaring feet above him, the creatures and his razor claws reach desperately to find their mark. _CLANK. _Sparks radiate from the circular disk resting on Jon's back. Again the monster missed.

It vanishes downward again, leaving the average black shadow on the ground to show its existence. I stop in my tracks. My eyes are focused upon the patch of black. It doesn't move. Wait. No, it shoots to the left. It stops.

In a flash it darts to the right.

"Mark, you twit, run like a coward!" Jon screams as he shuffles to his feet.

Shooting across the ground it heads straight for the unmoving fool. Suddenly there is some life in the boy. He throws his shield to his front. Massive, bulky arms brace the metal as he stands his ground.

"Will you move?" Again Jon yells to his brother, but again, his brother does not move.

Instead, he does something I did not expect. Taking off in a dash, he runs head long at the cloud. Sprinting quickly, he approaches the target. Closer the two move. Soil bursts behind the man, a trail of dark drifts in the wake of the Corrupted.

Explosion of darkness rips from the ground. Leaping high, the figure makes his move. Shield at the ready. Sword pulled from the sheath and left to glint in the dull light. Mark makes his attack. Smashing together, the cloud almost absorbs the man. The shield lands firmly in the center of the mass. The blade swipes fast against the blur of black.

Nothing.

The cloud rushes straight past the warrior. Neither one's weapons strike the other; the monster blades missed, while the tangible weapons of the boy did nothing to the untouchable matter. Bursting into the ground again, the form takes to flight. Zig-zagging through the trees, it shoots off. It heads for Nathanos.

Holding his ground as well, the undead fool braces his bow at his side and lets loose a shot. A whistle rings loudly from the slender wood. The tip guides the prefect item devastatingly towards its target. Closer, the arrow and cloud come together.

Bullseye!

The arrow nails the fiend directly in the center. But nothing. It keeps moving. The arrow did nothing! Oh no, it is closing in on him. Emerging from the ground the figure leaps again.

Stepping forward, I let loose a cry. "Move, Nathanos, move!"

Almost as if he actually listened to me, he leaps upwards grabbing a hold of one of the thick branches. Pulling his body upward, he easily averts the creature below. It vanishes once again. Then it slows. Moving to the side it appears to be searching for…no…

It takes off at an unbelievable speed. Dodging the trees, it moves towards the slower target. The older man cannot move like the rest of us. There is no way he is going to be able to make it. _You must give him aid. He must help the man._

Reacting fast my legs hear my voices' commands. The ground's unwillingness is nothing for my determination. Faster I approach the man, but the figure is too fast. Drawing near, I am too late. Bursting from the ground the figure shifts forward in its diabolic path. Its blades glisten from light unseen, sparkling their deadly teeth.

It moves closer. The air reeks of the death coming. Then Carlin reacts. Spinning, he moves his shield beautifully. Bouncing uselessly, the weak stabs of the monster do nothing to the man. However, this time, it seems the Slayer has found the one he truly desires.

Jumping forward, the Slayer throws his ghostly limbs wildly at the man. He is able to absorb the blows easily, but the creature is relentless. The blades dance mercilessly, and from his stance, Carlin will not be able to sustain this for long.

But I am almost there. Flinging my useless gun to the ground, I grab for my…no…my shovel will be useless. The fight is almost upon me. What do I do?

_You must do what you must. He…what? He needs to smash something in the face._

Yes, that is it. Reaching back, I grab the only item I have left, drag it to my front, and ready myself. I will have to use the spade.

Blades still dancing. Carlin still defending. The two locked in mortal combat. Then he falters. His left leg gives way. Falling to the ground, his body exposed to the world. Our friend lies vulnerable. Above him, smoke pukes from the smile on its face. The weapons vibrate in excitement. It gets ready for the finish.

Pulling the weapon to my side, I position it perfectly. I am here.

"Ugly!" The creature does not move, "Your face looks like it needs some reorganizing."

_THUD_

The flat blade slams hard against the smoky head. It stumbles backwards, moving in a state of disbelief. He almost comes to a stop, but I will not have that.

_THUD_

Flying for a second time the weapon smashes a chunk of dark air from his existence. Again he stumbles, but this time he recoils quickly. Leaping forward he stabs wildly at me. I pull to the side. I pull back. Move to the other side. In my hands my weapon is ready.

_THUD_

Black smears the sky as the beast fumbles into a tree. There it rests for a moment. Hatred flows from the dark spots that are its eyes. The line on its face no longer resembles that of joy. Now an ocean of rage boils beneath the cloud.

Suddenly, it lets loose a horrific noise. It tears my skull. It feels as if my eardrums are bursting. It feels as if it is going to last forever.

_You must stop this! He must silence it! You cannot just stand there! He will quiet the beast! You will! He must MOVE_.

Pulling the blade upwards I slowly bring it to its face. The blade twists until the face of the shovel faces towards the ground. The screech flows readily still. It erupts from his mouth as a tidal wave of terror. I must end this!

_You will! He will do it already!_

Steadying myself, I glare at the figure through the pain. "I…am…Hope Blackwood." The pain forces me to pause. "It will be my pleasure…to," The blade vibrates before its face. "Bury you."

Wood breaks from the tree. Splinters rain to the ground. The black cloud dances around the metal spade. The eyes are gone. Now the mouth is that of my weapon. I split his head in two.

Pulsing, its body moves violently. Puffs of smoke radiate from its being. For a few seconds, the creature continues onward in this manner. Then, in a spectacle of smoke and awe the monster dissipates, vanishing into thin air. All that remains now is a tree and a shovel.

For a brief moment, there is silence.

_You really have to say that? He is a corny one, he is._ What? Can a man say what he wants without being judged? _You are naïve. He is nuts._

"Impressive, soldier, impressive." A voice comes from behind.

Oh no, I almost forgot! I turn around in a hurry, reach down, and wait for Carlin. The man simply stares at me for a moment then reaches up to take my hand. With a swift jerk he is to his feet.

From my side, Nathanos yells, "Worm…that was very nice, but…did you really just smack a Corrupted soul…" I turn to see him, "with a shovel?"

I cannot help but smile, "Of course. Who would I be if I didn't use my job description to its fullest?"

Shuffling towards me a few weak laughs erupt from the Chapel Brothers. I watch as the smaller Jon carefully pulls the larger Mark. Overall, the two of them appear all right, but I am guessing the mishap with the cloud shocked the bigger one. Who knows? _You got it! He…ah, I don't care._

Sweeping across all of them I can see everyone appears joyous - well mostly everyone. There is a slight whimper from the undead being, but we ignore him. Jon rocks Mark in place while Carlin dusts himself off. We stand firmly and in a state of triumph. That was a rough fight. A few seconds of relaxation is good reward. We do deserve it. _You all do. He did the work. Yeah, it was your shovel._

Jon gives Mark a firm slap on the chest and laughs. "The big oaf here just got a face full or dark fluff."

Carlin chuckles while he repositions his weapons, "Better than a face full of hate. That thing was rather annoying." He braces his knees. "Thankfully the luck of Hope here got us a blade full of victory."

We all laugh weakly before Carlin sighs and rubs his slightly balding head. Jon and Mark smile boldly, and brace each other with signs of relief. A brief moment of peace.

Too brief, if you ask me. Again, there is a mild cry from behind. Carlin turns to me, but a sudden change in his expression is concerning. He takes a step forward, and his eyes lock with something behind me. I figure it is Nathanos. _You are the master of the obvious. He is the captain of observation._

Carlin comes to my side, but is unable to speak.

Nathanos yelps and beats him to it. "No!" Marris screams loudly, "No, no! It returns!"

My head twists as I look to him. His hands are wrapped around his head again. He rocks back and forth like he had done earlier yesterday.

Carlin replies, "What are you yelling about, Nathanos?"

Nathanos shakes to the sides, all while attempting to hold his head. "The voices are back! We must move!" He moves to the side then stumbles forward.

While Nathanos moves, Jon speaks up. "Where do you expect us to go? We are not exac…"

Marris' eyes dart back and forth, "We…we must see her! She will give us time to gather ourselves!" Looking around he searches for something before talking again, "Andorhal! We must go to Andorhal!"

Waving his hands, Carlin does not seem to like the answer, "You fool, do you not know what rests there? We would not make it past the first buildings…"

A thought crosses my mind, and sadly I feel my mouth open "I am betting there is nothing there." And there I go with my rebellious tongue again. That was supposed to just be a thought. _You would want that. He just needs to speak up more often._

Instantly Carlin turns to me, eyes narrowed in a combination of rage and confusion. "Do you really want to test our luck with that?"

I shrug. "I just beat a ball of air with an old, dusty spade. I would have to say our luck at the moment seems rather good."

He does nothing at first, and then sighs loudly. "We…I…this is against my better judgment, but…" he pauses, "I guess you two are right."

His eyes drift quickly to the brothers. They throw the old man shrugs and nods. Next his vision passes by Nathanos. Finally he looks over to me and sighs again.

"Ok, lets go. Let us hope our luck is still good."

Before the rest of us can even say a word, Nathanos begins off with his dog close behind. I look around for mine, and quickly notice it hiding behind a tree. Not much of a watchdog.

I head off towards the city just in the distance. Sadly, I do not get far before I notice Nathanos take to a fast jog. I am not sure why, but he is moving fast. Carlin is moving close behind him, and it appears that the Brothers are both now capable of moving alone. Looks like I am going to have to run again. _You look like you need it. He is not running, why?_

I am off. Running quickly, I attempt to keep up with the few ahead, but they are moving insanely fast. Sprinting now, the four of them - even Carlin – move at a ridiculous speed. The city is grower fast, we will be there in no time, but why so fast?

"What is with…" I break to catch my breath, "the running?"

Ahead of me, Carlin simply shrugs while the others just try to keep up with the speed runner leading us. From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of a large, brown object slowly passing me. Looks like Wriggler decided to come from his hiding spot.

We come to the outskirts of the town, jumping over bits of debris that are the remains of it. I jump over a large wooden table, dart past a shattered wall, and slide through the remains of what was once an entranceway.

Still ahead of me Carlin speaks. "This is impossible…" he pants, "Nothing is here. Nothing." He glides past another ruined structure and takes to the road.

Jon then laughs. "Man, I would have never been able to walk down this street before. The undead roamed it constantly!"

I am not sure what they are talking about, but the vacancy of this town is definitely noticeable. A few bodies and broken skeletons litter the streets, but overall, nothing remains active. We spring past a large fountain, head past the Town Square and head straight for what appears to be the inn.

In a matter of seconds, Nathanos comes to the door of the building, and waves to us, "Move you slow fools! Head inside!"

He darts inside, followed by Carlin, the Brothers, and…blast you Watcher! You almost tripped me! Followed by lastly…me. I come to a slow jog upon entering. _You move more like a fast turtle. He moves like a dead cow. _Shut up.

I come to some stairs, move up to the over story, and rest for a moment. After my two second break, I head to the right, pass into a dark room, and then…into an oddly illuminated room. This does not seem possible. It is as if a fake light is drawn to this room.

Looking around, I sweep all the walls, and then to the floor. There, standing maybe two-feet high, a small figure rests. She has red hair, freckles, and has to be the smallest thing here. She is a gnome, and from the look on Nathanos' face, that is the reason we are here now.

Before any of us can talk, she giggles a tiny squeak then speaks. "Took you boys long enough to get here." She pauses. "I have been waiting."

R


	8. Time

Time's Up

This room…is so beautiful. I cannot remember the last time I ever laid my eyes upon something so clear. _You need to focus, boy. He needs to stop spacing again._ The light illuminates all of my senses. _You really need to. He needs to. _It is just so breathtaking. Never before…

_PHAWAP_

A surge of pain rushes through the back of my head. My hand shoots to the impact spot and slowly rubs the pain. I turn to the figure standing next to me, and Nathanos' eyes glare angrily at me.

"Worm, will you introduce yourself to the kind lady?" He barks at me.

Without responding to him, I peer back forward, and then gaze downward at the tiny feminine figure before me. A small amount of red hair glows into pigtails behind her rather tiny head. I take a few steps in her direction. Kneeling before her, I bring my eyes to about her level and let her adorably miniature freckles come to sight.

Her eyes lock with mine and she smiles. _You better not say what you are thinking. He best not!"_

"You are a little thing." I said it.

_Wow…wow…you…wow. He really…said it._

She giggles and gives my cheek a slight pinch. "My, you are a cute thing!" She emits a high-pitched squeal before letting go of my face. "You really are cute, Hope Blackwood."

Beneath my chest I feel a rush of heat. Faster, my heart beats faster. How does she know my name? No one knows my name. Hell, sometimes I even forget my own name. _You are sadly telling the truth. He sadly is._ I just do not understand.

Again she giggles. "You are definitely wondering how I know that. But, do not worry yourself, Cutey, it is not of concern." Suddenly she claps her hands and gives my head a pinch again. "All that matters is that I am Chromie, member of the Bronze Dragonflight, and that you are in dire need of direction."

_Man, she has you pegged good. He needs some advise from her._

My mouth opens before I can even think, "You mean…you are a…dragon?"

She giggles and shrugs. "Cutey, you are definitely not dimwitted. You are a lot of things, but dimwitted, I must say you are not."

I do not know if she is right. As of this moment I truly have no idea what is happening. Everything seems so confusing. A dragon? There is no way this tiny thing is a dragon. And my name? What about my name? _You need to ask yourself how you knew what the dragonflight was. He actually surprised me with that one. _Nathanos told me…hey, why do I care about what you thin…

From behind a random burst interrupts me. "Can we get back to the matter at hand? I know Hope is a wonderful topic when we are quietly sipping tea from the sissy side of the brew of life, but there are far more important things to worry about than him."

Her eyes drift from me and over to the undead speaker behind me. She frowns before speaking. "You would not have said that a few years ago, Marris." Quickly, she smiles again, ignoring what she just said. "But you are sadly correct. The problems of now are definitely troubling."

Wait, what did she mean by that?

However, before I can think anymore, Carlin's voice fills the void. "More than just troubling. They are rather obscure and mind rattling." I turn and watch him scratch his head. "It is all so confusing."

The tiny voice replies, "Redpath, you are letting the obvious be clouded by the complexity of the simplicity of the truth. There are no trick questions in the air; what is happening is happening plainly before your eyes."

He scratches his head again, but this time smiles "My lady, you are confusing, yet straight to the point." His eyes look towards her. "So you mean, the undead…simply did what others said they did? They simply went…south?"

She squeals and then the sound of clapping fills the air. "Correct! I am happy you got that; otherwise we might have been here for a while. I threw most of what I had into that sentence."

Carlin grunts then sighs. His hand glides over his face slowly before he continues, "But what does that really mean? Where are they heading?"

She emits a strange chirping sound, and then speaks, "That too is obvious. What is south of here?"

No one says anything for a minute then Jon speaks up, "Oh, Tarren Mill!"

_Thud. _I can barely hear something from outside after he speaks.

Again there is clapping, "Wonderful! They are headed there!" She pauses for a moment, "Well, they were." There is another pause. "Ah, I am fool…"

_Thud. _I can definitely hear it.

Now, I turn to her. Her eyes have drifted down and now a frown covers her face. Something has caught her mind, and from that look, it is now good. _You are amazing. He is captain obvious._

Unexpectedly she smacks her forehead, "Such a fool! I should not have asked so many questions, time is almost out." Gazing up she looks at us one at a time as she speaks. "They are moving, all of them. They have taken Tarren Mill, and are moving fast. Sepulcher will fall soon! I am a fool! So much time wasted…"

_Thud._ She glances up at something unseen then looks back down.

Over and over again she slaps her forehead before gazing up to Nathanos. "Marris, you need to lead them out of here. Lead them out of here before the voices return." She pauses, "There is no time to waste anymore."

Suddenly Nathanos twitches, his hands lifting to his head. For a moment he clutches his skull. Moments pass before he calms and looks down to her.

Before he can say a thing she speaks, "Too late. Time is up."

_Thud. _From outside, a dull rumble echoes.

Instantly she begins pacing back and forth. Watching her, I cannot help but talk, "Chromie, you need to focus, you need to calm yourself."

_Coming from you? He just said a mouthful._

_Thud. _Another time I can hear it.

Her eyes lock with mine. For a moment she just stares. Then, without warning, she comes closer. Just whispering she speaks to me, "Cutey, before this is over…the word _Hope_ will have a whole new meaning." Again she pinches my cheek, but this time she moves in, presses her lips against my forehead, and then moves away.

_Thud_. It sounds much louder this time.

Gazing at me, she smiles. "Now…get out…that thing you just killed was a scout. It didn't yell for pleasure. They are coming, now get out."

_THUD. _The structure seems to shake.

None of us move. She then glares up to Nathanos, "Boy, GET OUT!"

_THUD_. The world seems to rock in place.

Footsteps fill the air, and the sound of a moving undead voice fills the house. "Run, you fools, run!"

Even more footsteps fill the air, but I continue to stare at her. Her small eyes search mine wildly. For a few seconds, she and I sit there. I am not sure why, but it is as if I can feel her every trouble and worry. I am not sure why. _You need to be sure on why you are not running. He needs to flee like a coward._

Then something I didn't expect begins to happen. Dulling in sight she appears to become…transparent. While I sit here and watch her, she begins to fade from my sight. Is this some sort of trick? What magic is this? _You should be taking part in the magic of running. He heard it was worthwhile._

Slowly she fades, and while she does so does the light in the room. Almost gone, and now I am almost back to my darkness.

Depressingly she gazes at smirks, "Sorry Cutey, Time's up. Now go."

And at that she is gone. All of the light I had found and her are gone. _YOU NEED TO RUN. HE NEEDS TO NOW._

I do not even notice, but I have begun to move. Shooting past the stairs, past the corner, over the table, and around another corner I am to the exit in seconds. I stop right at the door way and flinch. Sound washes over me again as if these walls had blocked it.

Voices echo across the skies. Footsteps rumble the world and chant to the ear. Blades dancing ring loudly. Men shout at each other, yelling orders for all to hear. Cries chill the heart. Screams dull the senses. Death laughs.

Moving outside, there is movement everywhere. Peering to my left, the horizon seems to shift and rock as it moves towards us. Rows of broken blades rise to the sky while heads bob to the beat of their march.

Slowly, I exit, moving to the right but always focused on the left. It is the army from before. We were too slow. She was right. The darkness has arrived. Time is up.

_BARK_

Turning, I glance down to see a large, wriggling figure peering up to me. His eyes glance at me unwittingly, yet all knowingly. He creeps in and opens his mouth. I step back and wave my hands at him.

"Ok, ok, I am moving!"

Running forward, I take to my feet as ordered. _You listen to the dog, but not us? He is insulting. _My sight remains forward and focused. I must continue. I must keep going. _You do not know where you are headed. He does not know what is happening._

I glance to the left, and I see nothing.

Then from my right a loud voice fills the air, "The light has abandoned us!" It pauses, "We are all doomed!"

Whipping my head towards it, the fluid in my veins seems to stop. Soldiers clad in red stumble across the fields. Their bodies whip past the environment at a speed that can only be created by fear. Some drop their weapons as they move. Others trip over their feet, clawing at the ground in attempts to get away. The sight is horrific.

_THUD_

Shaking, I am forced to stop. Everything bends and twists at the sound. It came from behind. Regretfully, I turn. Slowly, I twist to see what has happened. I wish I had not.

My eyes catch sight of a massive wooden limb crashing into the ground. As I drift up it, I let the vision of twigs, dirt, chunks of flesh and broken trees fill my sight. Coming to the main portion of the being, wood is all I see. Dead bark hangs loosely from the main portion of the being, while rotting flesh clings to it. Massive, broken branches jut out in all directions, but the two massive limbs draw my attention.

Like the legs, they are covered in an assortment of debris, but these connect to a rather small – small compared to it – object resting on top of the being. It appears as if a large mixture of moss, flesh and rocks were smashed together to form one, large head for the creature.

The lower portion of the mossy object cracks and lowers. Insects float from the opening, while a dark, unrelentingly terrifying voice bursts forth, "Nathanos Marris Blightcaller, I have watched you, Commander!" The entire figure shakes in place, as it laughs, "Your armies were always so vast! The King himself is almost envious!"

It reaches down, grabs a hold of a rather large tree, and as if it was nothing, tears it from the soil. Then it glances backwards then forwards again, "How do you like mine?"


	9. Rotted General

Rotted General

A long time ago, my mother sat on the corner of my small bed. Smiling down at me, she ran her fingers through my rough hair. It had been another day where the entire world looked as dark as it felt. I had grown sad, lost in the time that had been given to me. I felt empty inside. The shadow had consumed me.

But there, she sat, her fingers tickling my scalp. There, she sat, her calm presence breaking the hold the darkness had upon me. There, she sat, as she had so many times before. However, this time, she leaned to me and whispered something I would never forget.

"Hope, when all seems lost, there will be a beacon of light for all the good in this world to flock to" She gave my head a slight ruffle, "It will be the greatest of beacons, that no good man will forget, and that all evil will fear!"

She was a wise woman. Such a wonderful mother. But…I am confused now. Everything as of late has just confused me so much. There is so much darkness, so much evil, but…something is missing.

Mother…where is our beacon?

"To your feet, soldier!" A voice that seems so distant calls to me.

Dragging myself through the dirt, I begin to lift myself upward. I glance to my side and take in the impact spot of where that mess of bone, flesh, and metal landed. The hole is rather large, and bits of organic matter extend from it in all directions.

The entire site is unbelievably disgusting; except for one thing. Standing on the outer edge of the crater, a large, and rather furry creature dances around the remains in a state of lost discovery.

Sometimes I feel as if that dog is more confused than I am.

Carefully I struggle to get to my feet then out of nowhere an external force tightens around my arms and lifts upwards. I peer at the aging man and gaze at him through the haze of the aftershock.

Once I am to my feet he stabilizes me and frowns, "Hope, you alright?"

I wobble in my stance for a moment then the world begins to settle, "I think so…"

Jerking me forward, he pulls me at a quick pace, "Good, there wasn't any time to wait for your recovery anyway."

We take off at an insane speed, but the world still feels broken. The ground trembles horribly, while cries and screams of agony echo upon the hollowed wind. Still, despite the distractions, my body seems limp and void and all sounds seem weak. _You are dazed. He is lost._

Yes, I am lost. I need some direction.

Gazing to Carlin, I yell as we move. "Carlin, where are we going?"

He pants heavily while replying, "To the mountains just ahead!" He pauses for a moment, "Just follow this path!" Again he pauses for a breath. "Make it to the Bulwark! Make it to safety!"

Suddenly, something else draws my attention.

_CARASH_

Quaking, the ground ripples a shockwave of terror from underneath us. Carlin trips forward and is just barely able to keep himself on his feet. Thankfully for me, I simply rock backwards than forwards for a moment. Dirt sprinkles upon the back of my neck and quickly fades. I have absolutely no idea what just happened.

Emerging in the right corner of my eye, I can see Nathanos leaping down the road. He pulls his bow forward, grabs an arrow, lets it fly then repeats twice more. What could he…

_THUD_

The monstrous leg slams into the dirt path. Following quickly behind, the huge beast's torso comes into sight. In a flash its arm whips backwards. Just as quickly, it flies forward.

_CARASH_

Again the world quakes. Again Nathanos leaps and shoots. This time, however, I run. My senses are coming to. I must get moving. I cannot stay here! I must follow the path. Yes, follow the road to safety! _You must avoid the monster. He must duck!_

Without thinking, I pull myself forward. My head keeps looking straight ahead, but now my chest is parallel to the ground. Carlin pulls himself down as well. The trees snap in the middle as if they hold no strength. They twist into the air, following with the force that the wooden weapon brings. Suddenly, air rushes around me. The force pulls me back but does not stop me.

Almost instantly the limb passes overhead, rains down a wall of energized wind, and then calms. That was close. _You said it. He…might need new pants._

Again I run, pushing forward fast. Carlin stumbles with his footing, so I dash to him, pull him to his feet, and together we take off. Before us a field of trees lays, just ahead the slopping mountain – the same one from earlier yesterday. Around us, soldiers yell into the air at each other and out of fear.

Twisting my head, I catch sight of Nathanos again. He is lagging slightly behind us. Continuously he rains arrows upon the rotting foe. In return, the monster whips the cracking tree in all directions.

_CARASH_

A mound of dirt shatters, but Nathanos leaps to the side and sprints forward.

_WOOSH_

The air ripples and bends as before, while trees splinter and shatter as the beat whips his weapon. But Nathanos is not winded

It is then I notice what is happening all around us. On the other side of the road – I am not sure how they got there – Jon and Mark dash ahead of what appears to be a small force of the soldiers I saw earlier. The two of them move almost as quickly as we do, but the men behind are lacking in speed.

However the dark army trailing those red clad soldiers is not.

Their bones grind together. The blue flames float from their skulls. Their flesh dangles from the bone, while organs of others hang to the ground. Each one is disgusting to the last. Each one moves forward at the speed drawn from hate. Each hunts relentlessly for death. _You hate them all. He needs to look forward._

Quickly I peer ahead, dodge a tree just barely, and then look back. This time, I catch sight of the Chapel brothers passing by a small barn. It appears like the one we slept in earlier, but there is something different about this one. This one…has mounds of…bones…

As if they heard my call, the mounds shift. Appearing in a hurry, an upright skeleton marches from the pile. Soon after, another appears. Dozens more. They appear just in time to intercept the fleeing soldiers.

The leading man lets out a short yell before the blade silences him. Falling to the floor, his body lays limp. Bleached bones crash upon the wall of red. Many of the frail things break to the rage and fear of the running humans. Sadly, others take their victims. Bodies of all sorts tumble to the ground, but the men in red keep on running. They leave behind their brethren, they continue on.

_You might need to look ahead again. He…WATCH OUT._

I turn and coming from the side, a white figure appears. Just ahead of me, Carlin twists back to me and opens his mouth, but I do not hear anything. All I can focus on now is this figure; this figure and his dulled, silver companion.

Glistening in the broken light, it hangs in the air. It waits for me. I cannot stop myself. My feet drag across the dirt. The blade draws closer. I am going to collide straight into it. This is the end. I can almost feel the point.

Then, as if fate itself intervened, the creature jerks sideways. Falling to the ground, it appears to be…dragged.

Oh, I love you. _You are loved by two. He is loved by three._

Whipping its head to the sides in frenzy, the small monster snaps the bones of the frail creature easily. After a moment, it pounces onto the skeleton's back, sinks its fangs into the undead foe's skull, and continues to flail.

_CRUNCH_

Pieces of a dull white color rain in all directions. Coming to a stop, the skeleton ceases to move, but the one on top leaps from the body and dashes to me. Adorably he barks, puking bits of skull while he does.

Then he bites me.

"Ouch!" Shooing him away, I dust my leg then grab his head. "Why can't you be consistent with your motives?!"

Watcher simply stares at me. While he does he wriggles his body and dances his little wiggle dance. _You found a friend as crazy as you! He is good at that._

From ahead, a voice yells to me, "Hope, get moving! They are…

_TITHBURSH._

A loud roar interrupts him. That sound is familiar. Reaching to my shoulder, I notice an absence. My chest freezes. No wonder I feel so much lighter. Turning, I glance to opposite side of the path, and I see it.

The brothers take a lead on us, with a few soldiers closely behind. Trailing them, the bulk of the warriors that fought follow quickly. Closing in on them, is what I am looking for. Gliding fast on his horse, a broken figure, wielding a large, dusty gun tramples towards the figure.

_TITHBURSH_

One man falls, crashing to the dirt. I, however, stand tall, the chill from my veins all but gone. Now, before me, a path guided by hatred and fueled by rage aligns itself. I am unable to control my legs. _You must continue to follow the path. He must not get distracted!_

No, that is my gun.

Jogging fast, I approach the road. I can feel the warmth surge through my veins. My body has become a tool of destruction. I can no longer see Carlin or the Brothers. They have ran out of sight. But I do not care.

That is my gun!

Running, I move in a direction that perfect. I dash across the path.

That…is…my…gun!

Sprinting, I draw my spade to my side. The demon sees my charge, and takes my weapon to aim. _TITHBURSH._ Burning across my face, the round barely misses. But I won't….no…

THAT IS MY GUN!

I swing it forward. Slowing only on impact, it slices through the steed's limbs. The horse's head flies straight down, while its back legs rock high into the air. The passenger is instantly thrown from its ride and sent hard into the ground. It twitches for a moment before twisting itself towards me. Slowly, it attempts to draw itself to its feet, but I rush to him and stop him at his knees.

_THUMP_

Wooden staff, blade, and all vibrates in the air before I drag it quickly back to the side of the creature. Colliding with its arm, the blade severs the limb from the body and sends it falling. Before it even has a chance to rest, I pick the arm up, take from it what is mine, and adjust it in my hand.

A quiet growl emits from the creature, and I think he is displeased with my performance. I think he wants me to share. _You do like to share. He likes sharing with everyone._

In a flash I ram the barrel into the skeleton's slightly open mouth, pull a bullet from my pocket, and ram it into the chamber.

Glaring down at it, I speak, "If you wish for something that belongs to me," I slam the bolt forward, "There is something I am always more than willing to provide."

_TITHBURSH_

Dust floats gently in the air. The skull no longer remains, and the body lies limply in the grass. This is my gun. No one shall have it but me. _You are the only owner. He will kill you if you even think of it!_

_THUD_

From behind, I can hear the massive footstep of the almost forgotten monster. I turn, catching sight of Nathanos darting past me. Close behind him, the monster limbers forward with his monstrous stride. Clutched in his hand is the same tree, of which he prepares to use.

Oh, he won't. Enough of this!

I rotate myself slightly, and take a bullet to hand. Raising the gun to my shoulder, I reload, pull the lens to my sight and take aim. _You must not provoke its wrath! He needs to shoot it in the knee!_

Take a breath. Calm yourself. Aim perfectly and correctly.

A voice yells to me, "Worm, don't you dar…"

_TITHBURSH_

A cloud of moss flutters from the impact spot. The entire creature stumbles in its step before coming to a stop. It takes the huge monster a second to realize what has happened, and it takes him equally as long to find me.

It is almost as if I can feel his beady eyes lock on me. Unexpectedly he throws the tree from his hand, reaches down, and plucks a new one. Repeating, he takes another with his other hand. Bracing before me the giant clutches his two weapons firmly, arches forward, and bellows loudly.

The air itself seems to bend to the roar's will. My head seems to swell from the rumbling. Chills of freezing terror dance down my spine and quickly depart my being for safer premises. _You should have listened. He should have listened to me. He should have shot the knee…the knee! _

Uh-oh.

_Thudthudthud_, the ground screams loudly as it darts towards me. _CARASH_. The first tree smashes hard behind me, but I roll quickly to the side. _CARASH_. I jump backwards in time to dodge…_CARASH_. He is moving so quickly. The ground trembles in agony from the blows…_CARASH_…and so do I!

I take off running. The path is in my sights…_CARASH_…but behind me the distraction is overwhelming! Just ahead, I see a narrow gap in the mountain sides. Yes! Just ahead, linked…_CARASH_…with the path is what appears to be a small wall. In that…_CARASH_…is a door! That what Carlin was talking about! That is where we need to go! _You need to keep running. He needs to watch his feet!_

I stumble for a moment, but I have no balance. The ground greets my face welcomingly, and sends it a message of pain and sorrow. Fool! I tripped over something. I look back quickly, and notice a root just sticking out of the ground. Near it, a large tree trunk leads up. Connected to that, the torso of a monster of terror and the heart of the unrelenting dead are located.

Glaring down at me, the monster holds the remains of the trees and readies himself for his kill. "You are not Nathanos," He raises his right arm into the air, "But you will have to do!"

Suddenly, a small object shoots across my vision. Moss flutters from the impact spot, and the creature appears dazed. Another follows soon after, but this one hits the creatures torso. A third one, a fourth. Arrows! Nathanos, I love you! _You love him. He loves to get up and run wildly, too!_

That is something I do love to do! Without hesitating I leap back to my feet, and run forward. Darting ahead of me, Nathanos leaps back and forth while he dodges the creature's flurry of attacks.

The ground quakes violently, and it appears Nathanos is having a hard time moving away this time. I don't think any help will hurt this time.

_TITHBURSH_

Slamming into his back, it forces the monster to reel backwards, and swing at me! Ducking, I feel the surge of air again, and watch as a row of trees buckle, snap, and fly in all directions; they are broken in half like frail bones.

Again, I head forward, the gate is so close! I can almost feel our escape! Such a marvelous feat! Together, Nathanos and I shall get away just in the nick of time! _You need to rethink that. He needs to find Nathanos!_

_CARASH_

Twisting, my eyes lock with the tumbling Nathanos. His body rolls across the grass and comes to a stop in the middle of the path. He rolls to his back and peers up the monster overhead.

Standing there, he gazes down at the small figure. His eye burn deeply into his target and mentally creates the crater for which it shall be buried. It has Nathanos where he wants him. I have to help! I must! _You cannot do anything. He need…_

I will not abandon my friend!

Reaching for my gun, I can feel my fingers numb. My fingertips glide across my back, missing what I am looking for. That is probably because I left my gun where I fell. My eyes drift in that direction, and they tear as they lock with Watcher. Running his way to me, he carries the weapon in his mouth, but it is too late. He tried his best, but it is I who has failed.

Looking back to the path, the monster rocks back and forth in place as it emits its horrible laughter, "What a glorious day for the Scourge." The laughter grows, "The death of the Queen's fool will reach her cold heart in minutes, and she will break at the word!" Even louder, "That filthy wench will know her place soon enough!"

Jerking his arm back, he gathers the energy needed.

But then a loud voice echoes from behind. "Let'er fly!"

Following, what sounds like a dull whip and a loud rumble fills the air. Before I can even react, a large, grayish object tumbles down, and crashes into the beast. Chunks of bark rip from the being's body, and the force sends him tumbling backwards; barely wounded, the creature replies with a horrific bellow.

The voice from behind yells again, "He needs another one. Send him a clearer message!"

This time, I dart forward before the whip and roar fills the air. My arms reach forward quickly, grips the undead fool on the ground, and I begin to drag him backwards like I have so many times before. But this time, I am not taking this to the grave. _You take him to safety. He moves like a pro!_

A second later, the rock floats towards its target, slams into the right shoulder of the beast, and sounds it tumbling again. It screams loudly again, but the sound does nothing. Peering down, I let go of Nathanos, take a hold of his arm, and together we pull him to his feet.

At that, he sprints to the door, with me tailing quickly behind. The wall is so close; suddenly flying over it a barrage of arrows welcomes us with the comfort of safety. Only a few feet now! From behind the creature yells and appears to be screaming at the same time. Almost there! Arrows continue to rain upwards. Nathanos passes through the gate! I pass through, and from behind I hear the ruffling of tiny paws. I turn around and watch as Watcher and his friend fly through the door. Then my eyes drift up and I stare as the creature flinches in agony before stumbling off, out of sight.

With a loud thud, a gate slides down and seals the opening; seals the entire field and removes it from mind.

Moving forward, my vision locks with Carlin and the Chapel Brothers. Sitting together, the three rests near a small tent and stare off down into the distance. I cannot help but glance myself, and I feel a tingling sensation inside. Never before have I seen such lively grass. Yes, it still looks slightly dead and dry, but it is so green. _You marvel in the insignificant. He takes nothing for granted._

It is as if the sight causes me to forget everything that has just occurred. From the looks on the three near the tent, I feel they have forgotten it all too, or lost in what just occurred. Sadly, their silence tells me nothing.

I sigh and simply let the sight embrace my clouded eyes. It is good to get away from those fields. It is good.

My eyes then drift to the side and lock with the sighing undead. Arching backwards, he lets his arms hang limply in the air and chuckles to himself. I am not sure why he laughs. Maybe it is because of our quick escape from the giant, or the beautiful escape from the giant's vast army. Maybe it is because he is finally away from them all. _He, Nathanos, is just happy to be home._

After a second, he looks forward and grunts. "Finally, at the bulwark!" He laughs, "We are almost to Undercity! Almost to milady!"

He pauses for a moment then leans forward. "Almost to my Banshee Queen." His fists clench while his arms curl upwards. "Damn that foolish monster and his idiotic armies. He will pay for what he said." He turns to me.

I can see his hate; his eyes burn from his anger and his body trembles from rage. "No one speaks that way about milady. No one."


	10. Bad News and Terrible News

--_**Note**_--: I appreciate all the reviews given about the previous chapters and would like to thank everyone who has written one -- or multiple ones. It gives motivation to know some people like the tale, and allows me to continue, especially since I almost quit writing it at chapter two.

It is rather...disturbing(?) sometimes to write this. Occasionally I find myself almost going to different views of myself while typing it. So, like mentioned before, it makes it worth while to continue if people truly enjoy it, even at the expense of a possible straight jacket :P

Oh, and any errors you find do not take it as if I do not care. It is just after so long, my eyes eat the entire page and all I seem capable of only seeing are black and white blobs on the screen. I try to catch the bulk of what I can, but, of course, I will never get them all.

Here is another chapter, so, like the others, I hope you like it.

Bad News and Terrible News

It has fallen.

That is what I am told, it has fallen. From the expression of the Chapel Brothers and Carlin, I am guessing what has fallen is of some sort of significance. _You take observations and observe them. He does that well._

The three of them rest near a large, wheeled weapon that I am told is a catapult. I have heard of these things, but never before have I actually seen one. I am guessing this is what threw that rock at the giant. _You are an excellent guesser. He needs to focus on what is important. _Yes, you are right.

My eyes drift from them and over to the undead standing near a pile of debris. He looks back and forth over the useless mess as if he is going to find the answer to life's riddle there. Though, I am pretty sure he doesn't need an answer to that. He is already dead.

Anyway, he keeps pacing around it with the utmost of attention. I am not certain what is running through that head of his, but there is something. _You are asking someone else that? He has some nerve._

I take a step forward, but am instantly distracted by Carlin, "I just cannot believe…" there is a slight pause, "They took it so quickly."

Instantly I am drawn to the conversation. I stop in my tracks and turn to them. "What was taken?"

Carlin's eyes simply roam to me while he lets his head fall into his hands. "The last town in all of the Western Plaguelands." He sighs and glances down at the ground, "The Scarlet town Hearthglen."

Jon and Mark shake their head in disappointment, and I figure I should be in some sort of shock as well, but, I guess I just do not know nor care as much as them. _You should. He has no need to care. You shush. He is not a scarlet sissy! You…_

That brings a question to my mind. Sadly, I know from past experience that I am going to ask it whether or not I like it, "Where did all the red clad soldiers go? The Scarlet Warriors?"

There is silence. I am not sure if I hit a rough spot or if no one wants to answer. Finally, After a moment, Carlin ifidget and talks. "They told us they were heading to the Monastery just north of here. They told us they will fight there." He lifts his head up. "The sheer length of the corridors there is sufficient for defense. Supposedly."

His head then floats back to his hands, and his eyes drift to some unseen object behind. My eyes, however, sweep to the Chapel Brothers. Mark is fidgeting with a small rope that I am guessing he found from a tent around here, while his brother toys with a small, green sack.

That item seems familiar. I do not know why, but I feel as if I have seen that before. _You might have. He might have slain something that slew someone who had it. _Whoa. What? _You know. He used a shovel._

The cloud monster, yes. Now what about him? Oh, right, the fight with him. No, no, not the fight, something prior. Before I fought him, he killed a rider. That rider fell, and he dropped…a green sack! Of course, how could I have forgotten? _You…never mind._

"Jon, when did you pick that up?" I speak quickly.

He looks up at me and glares angrily. However, before he can even say a word, Carlin speaks. "Yeah, Jon, when did you?"

Jon's eyes do not drift from me when he speaks. "A while back."

Again Carlin talks, "Where from? I do not remember you taking it with you from the Chapel."

His eyes still focus on me. "I found it in the fields. By the first barn we stopped at."

I notice Carlin sit upright and narrow his focus on Jon. "Now, where exactly did you so happen to _find_ said item?"

Jon's eyes finally drift to Carlin then down to the sack. "Well, you see…someone dropped it. And, being a good citizen, I picked it up."

Carlin stands to his feet. "Lad, who dropped it?" His voice sounds a bit more tense.

Jon looks back and forth then coughs. "A rider."

Before Carlin can say a word, Nathanos' voice booms loudly. "Fool, you had that rider's package this entire time and you said nothing?" He quickly comes into sight.

The defender's hands fly into the air. "Hey, I forgot about it! I simply grabbed it during the confusion and shoved it under my shield. I just remembered it now."

Nathanos shakes his head. "Well then, since you just rediscovered your discovery, why not share the experience of looting the poor man's bag for all of us?"

Jon looks over to Carlin who shrugs. Next he looks over to Mark who does the same. Finally, he glares over to me. I scratch my chin and speak. "Go for it, Jon. I am kind of curious myself."

Finally, he sighs and pulls a small cord and lets the item open flop open. He reaches his hand in slowly, grabs something, and carefully pulls out what appears to be a large flask. Within it, a light bluish fluid rocks back and forth. He continues to shake the beautifully teal water back and forth, letting it wash over all edges of the flask, and while he does, I notice a marking on the side.

_T__yr_

Instantly, Carlin slaps his head, and emits a slight whimper. Mark and Jon frown, but do not move an inch,. Nathanos grunts loudly. "Of course. Why good news?"

I do not get it. What does this mean?

Turning to Nathanos I clear my throat before I talk, "Nathanos, what is it? Isn't it just some water from the fortress Tyr's Hand?"

He grunts again and glares at me. "Worm, I know you never had the pleasure of going into that idiotic place, but that is not just some regular water." He points at it. "They are paladins, Worm. They are people of the light. And that is their Holy Water. It is sacred to them."

His head shakes to the sides. "The only reason they would ever take it from that stronghold…" He stops and looks to the sides.

From the side, Carlin walks forward and speaks. "Is if it had the it was in danger of being destroyed. In other words, if the walls were breached."

The chill returns. I can feel my veins freeze over. My eyes twitch, and my legs feel weak. There is no way that fortress was taken. The walls were so high. Cannons were everywhere. How? Is just isn't possible. _You know the truth. He knows the persistence of the undead._

Carlin sighs again. "That must mean our brothers at the Chapel have failed as well."

His eyes navigate down, while his hand glides over his bald spot. He looks up, opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Instead, his brown eyes tear. Continuing to stare upwards, he paces back and forth. Moving quietly, his unheard words scream louder than a banshee. Carlin's spirit appears to be winded by the full force of the truth. His will breaks before our eyes. All done…without a word. _You wish you could be like that. He knows that will not happen._

My sorrow builds within. I cannot just stand here and let this man die inside. I just cannot. If he dies inside, there is no way for me to bury it. There is just no way to give peace to something left to rot in the unseen sun. And I cannot let that happen. _Then you must speak! He must give him strength!_

Unexpectedly I feel my mouth move, "That does not mean your brothers failed." There is no point in trying to control my tongue anymore.

Instantly he gazes up to me. His eyes lock with mine, and I can almost feel a spark burn within.

His redeemed eyes give me the motivation I need, "We all know the Scarlet fools couldn't defend a fortress even if the gods themselves were perched upon their walls."

Jon and Mark now look at me. Both their expressions have changed. But nowhere near as much as Carlin's. Now, his eyes are lit up. His lips curl to a slight smile and his inner fire burns bright once again.

After a second he nods then turns to the Brothers and Nathanos. "Blackwood here is right. Just because Tyr's Hand fell does not mean our friends were defeated that easily!" His voice rises as he talks. "No, as we speak our brothers stand against an army ten-thousand strong, but do not break!"

Jumping to his feet, Jon throws his hands into the air and cheers, "Fight on, soldiers of the tainted plains!"

Carlin barks happily back. "Destroy the broken armies before the Chapel of Light!"

Mark leaps up, cups his hands around his mouth and lets out a mighty, "Hooooowhaaaaa!"

As if on cue, the rest of us raise our hands into the air and reply with mighty calls of our own. Carlin lets forth a volley of hoots. Jon yells wildly. I scream like a maniac. _You seem surprised. He needs to yell like this more often! _I should! It is a fantastic feeling! Overwhelming, yet amazing it is! Sadly, it does not last long and within seconds you can sense the relaxing of the moment.

Calming quickly, I throw a smile to Carlin. He looks at me, nods then gazes over to the other two. The both of them give each other slight shoves; they give each other playful shoves. Our strength has returned!

From behind, Nathanos chuckles and forces me to turn. Looking at me, I notice that he is simply starring. He is starring at all of us and moving…joyfully? I would say he is smiling, but his lack of lips would make that all but impossible.

Suddenly, he reaches forward, pulls the flask from Jon's hands and gives the water a swirl. "Rather remarkable what a few words will do."

Turning to me, he shoves the water into my chest and chuckles again. "I believe you are deserving of this, worm." He shrugs, "Maybe its glow will keep even your insanely bright spirits high when all is dark."

I am instantly confused. Why did Nathanos give me a flask of water? I look down. Is there so purpose to me having this? I am not exactly a man of the light. Wait, did Nathanos just…in essence…reward me? Nah_. You would never get rewarded by him. He needs to ignore that foolishness. _Ignore it I shall.

Peering up, I gaze over to the Chapel Brothers first. Jon glares at Nathanos, shakes his head, looks to me and nods. I then gaze to Mark who nods as well. Over to Carlin, he smiles and gives a slight bow. Finally, I look back to Nathanos who claps once, nods a few times then stops moving.

Again I look at the flask, and confusion sets in again. Well, I figure they feel it has some power to it. Guess I will keep it.

I give it a swirl of my own, and I suddenly notice the glow he was speaking of. It truly is beautiful. What a marvelous sight. I shall never let it go. _You shall not. He better not, that stuff is expensive._

Then, like many times before, a thought crosses my mind. However, I open my mouth willingly this time. "Nathanos…could I…" I pause only to give the fluid a shake. "Drink it?"

His eyes narrow and his grunts. "Worm…" His eyes shift back and forth. "Well, actually…" He scratches the top of his head. "I do not know. But for the betterment of our sanity, don't. K?"

From behind Carlin laughs loudly while I can see the Chapel Brothers shaking their head in disbelief. Nathanos, however, spins and faces the field ahead. He has bigger things on his mind.

One last time I give the flask a shake; I watch the glowing water swirl within the almost invisible walls, then let it settle. Hurriedly, I strap it to my side, tighten it firmly then look up.

Nathanos jerks his head back for a moment and stares off at something behind me. At first I pay no attention, but I slowly begin noticing sound rising from that direction. Without turning, I listen to the increasing rumble. I listen to the growing roars. I listen to the incoming army. It had been so silent that I had completely forgot about all that happened behind that small wall.

Foolish. _You said it. He should have watched that wall._

Nathanos shakes his head then turns away from the structure. "Our fight is not here."

Carlin walks over to him and replies, "That does not make sense. Are we just going to let them overwhelm this wall?"

Nodding, Nathanos answers, "The Bulwark is going to fall whether we stand here or not." He sighs. "We must inform the Lady of the approaching mass. Hopefully we can at least defend the capital."

Instantly, Nathanos whistles to his dog, takes to his feet and heads down the large path. He stops just briefly to shift through a ruined tent. Oddly, he pulls out some rope, throws it over his shoulders then continues forward. Jon looks at all of us in confusion then, regretfully follows after. Carlin shakes his head and he too follows behind Mark.

I, however, turn one last time and watch the brave fools bracing against the wall. Spikes bear the door and structure itself while archers wait patiently for the attack. The catapults have been repositioned, and their gunners rest in their anxiety. None of them speak. None of them need to. They know their fates and their destinies. Death speaks loud enough for them all.

With a sad heart, I turn forward, but a wriggling object below my vision diverts my attention. In his mouth, a metal object oozes with saliva. I can make out the etchings on the bottom of the barrel and I sigh.

I reach down, grab hold of the non-gooey sides and smile at Watcher, "Good boy. Thank you…" I pull but he does not give. "Let go of the gun!"

He steps backwards, the weapon firmly in place. Shifting it to the right, I attempt to dislodge the item but he is stubborn! He needs to just give it to me. _You need to show him who is boss! He needs to treat it like himself!_

Of course!

I stop pulling the weapon then smile, "Watcher, food!"

The dog stops instantly and begins looking around. Good advise. Confusing him is the best answer! Again his eyes dart back and forth then his grip loosens. Jerking backwards, the gun is free, but the dog appears distraught. Suddenly, he coughs, and, unsurprisingly, a skull now rests in his mouth.

Wiping the film off on my pants, I clean it, throw it over my shoulder than sigh at the dog. "I really wish I could figure out when you find time to swallow that."

Without thinking, I begin jogging quickly down the road – if figure they are a good distance ahead of me. Sadly, my judgment is not off, and they are, indeed, far away. Fortunately, I move fast enough where I am upon them in seconds.

As I slow to move beside Carlin, Nathanos speaks to me. "Decided to tag along, eh, worm?"

I nod then he continues talking. "Like I was saying to the rest, Undercity may not be the visually best place to visit, but it is a location of safety!"

He points forward, "All of this land rests firmly in the eyes of the Queen, my Lady, and it is defended well."

Again he points, but this time he notions to the growing caravan that rests ahead. "You see that? Well, it is a rest spot for all to use on their travels across this great land."

The location grows larger, and I notice a lot of movement. "See, even now, the activity is great." I notice him nod, "They will welcome us firmly."

Throwing his body to the left, he points towards the hills. At first, I do not notice what he is pointing at, but the gray barrier is given identification. The walls stand tall in the sky. Thick green tendrils roam up all sides, while large chips in the barrier itself gives signs of battle. Despite all this, they appear firm. Except…as my eyes sweep down the wall, I notice what seems to be a hole. I guess their idea of defense is openness to all. _You know the wall is not right. He knows it is broken._

Unexpectedly, Nathanos emits a strange sound then stops. He stops dead in his tracks. I turn to look at me, and his mouth appears to be open, ready for another sentence, but something silenced him.

Suddenly he twitches then yelps, "No…the voices." He shakes his head. "It cannot be!"

Quickly he begins moving forward. His hands flow to his side, take his axes to arms, and he begins running toward the larger caravan ahead. My eyes follow behind the charging undead, and I am confused. Why is he running? _You know he wants to greet his friends. He needs to see of those really are friends._

Squinting, my vision tells me the horrors of the truth. Broken tents and destroyed caravans riddle the path ahead. Bodies intertwine the grass and debris, while bleached bones stand upright amongst the fallen.

It does not seem possible. How could they? How can they? This has to be a horrible dream. This has to be some sort of nightmare! None of this can be possible! _You know it is. He can feel the truth of it_. Yes, I can. Those are no friends of ours.

As Nathanos darts forward, Carlin yells to us. "Follow him, soldiers, follow him! Those are Scourge that riddle that post!"

Reacting fast, I sprint forward, pull my shovel to my front, and take off. This time, I lead the rest of them, but I am no match to Nathanos' speed. Nor am I any match to his rage.

He makes it to the outpost before any of us can even say we came close. When he does, he does not hesitate. Rage flows from every swing. Bodies fall at every blow. The enemies try to fight, but they cannot match his fury. They can simply stand long enough to know the strike.

We slow, watching his anger dissipate across the foes. Bones hurl through the air, while thick red fluid splashes as he ends the partially meaty ghouls. Swords and tiny shields fail against his now glistening, red axes. Gargling sounds emit from their shattered bodies as they collapse into their own bodies. They try with all of their feeble to might to stand and fight, but they are foolish.

Finally coming to the corner of the caravan, I watch helplessly while he maims the remaining few. The way the few left move it is almost as if they are running from him. It is almost as if these few Scourge face defeat. And for the first time ever…faced fear.

But that fear did not last long. Nathanos rid them all of the feeling. He killed them all. Continuing to watch in a mild horror, Nathanos drags a body down the road, snaps the leg bone in half, then uses the shattered fragments to impale a twitching ghoul. He stabs it again. A third time he thrusts, splashing dried blood and mangled pink fragments upon himself.

Every strike he deals I can feel his hatred. Every strike I can feel his anger. Every strike, I can feel his duress. Nathanos breaks the enemy out of more than just rage. He breaks them…out of hopelessness.

They have come. They marched upon his lands. They murdered his people. They have come and with them, they have provoked his hate. They will regret it. _You tell them! He describes their fate._

Finally, he turns away from us, and leans backwards. His arms fall to the sides and he lets out a cry. Hesitantly I walk up beside him, but before I can say anything, the sight before us silences me.

The horizon moves. A wall of white, red, and gray shift together in an array of movement. Each, disgusting color mingles with the others to create a pallet of horrors. As they march, the moonlight reflects sparks of dulled light off the tips of browned blades, while it is drowned in the dusty gray armor. Their arms fling limply at their sides, and not a single one throws their lifeless limbs in beat with the advance. Gnarled teeth, however, grind in perfect rhythm to the stumping feet. The same feet that bear broken fragments of old metal, or nothing at all.

All of them are shadowed by the looming, purple flags that wave over them. Torn and ragged, the borders of the floating clothe are highlighted by the shadow that is the moon's glow. In the middle rests a large symbol that shows that these fools bear allegiance to one man. It is their banner; a banner of hatred. It is what guides these troops, and is what drives upon the very walls Nathanos bragged about.

Despite the noise that flows from the tide of damnation ahead, the few of us that stand here hear nothing but terrible cries of news worse than that of prior discovery. This is not a day of luck.

Unexpectedly, Carlin suddenly talks quietly from behind. "It appears we found the missing troops that routed south." He pauses, "I just wish I knew how they moved so quickly…"

The question is one lost, but one of needing. _You will know soon enough. He will._ Loudly, I sigh. Following after, my eyes gaze over the wall of monsters as they march towards the wall, the entrance, and whatever lies within.

Looks like we won't be warning anyone.


	11. Barrage of Events

Marching towards the main gates, the vast army held its standard high, and its weapons higher

Marching towards the main gates, the vast army held its standard high, and its weapons higher. Thousands formed the ranks of the damned. Thousands completed the division of destruction. Thousands advanced upon the doors.

All while we stood in awe.

Our faces yelled the fear of us all. The gapping mouths of each one of us screamed a state of shock. Every widen eye shouted the words stated above, while telling the world of our confusion. Sadly, despite their lack of true sound, they were all heard. _You saw them turn to you. He watched as dozens broke from rank. You helped move the debris for a barrier. He created defense._

And so they came.

The first wave smashed against the feeble barricades. Nathanos rained death in droves, while the warriors of the Brothers and Carlin stabbed death deeply into their hearts. I, however, was told to gather rope. I was not sure why he wanted me to gather rope, but I did. Took me almost five minutes to wrangle a good, long strand from a tent, but I got it!

Now, I have ten long pieces. And wave six drives itself upon our small fortress. _You cannot remember if it is wave six. He might think it's actually wave four. _Nathanos does not seem withered by the constant attacks. Mercilessly, he drives life from the charging foes. Relentlessly, he forces them back to the grave. Unforgiving, he banishes them from his land. However, the rest grow weary.

I am not, though. Gathering this rope might be tedious and annoying, but draining it is not. I tug on last rope I found under part of the crushed caravan. Finally, it slips free, and after a few seconds of tangling it around my arm, I throw it near the pile of the rest. Quite a fine pile, if don't mind saying. _You made a mighty rope mountain. He really spent his time doing this. _

Standing upright, I brace my back. Leaning back slightly, I wait for it to make a soft cracking sound before falling forward. My eyes drift up and lock upon the brave soldiers holding strong against this wave. Again, the skeletons do nothing but fail to break us, but I can already see the next batch moving their way to us.

Suddenly Nathanos twists and barks at me, "Worm, get over here." He pauses, cracks a skeleton's skull, and then turns back, "Take my spot. I will be needing that…fine pile of rope you found."

I nod and move towards him hesitantly. As I pass by him he squeals and darts to the rope. I am pretty sure he has lost his mind. _You are a good judge of that. He still is crazier than Nathanos. _Yeah, I have you two for company. Would drive any man mad.

"Blackwood!" Carlin yells at me, "Focus!"

Instantly I gaze forward, grab my weapon, and load it. Aiming carefully, I take a skeleton sprinting fast towards us. I do not know what the big deal is, but…oh well…

TITHBURSH

It collides with the ground, flips over itself, and then flops to its resting spot. The few remaining skeletons do not even make it close to the wall. Slowly, I lower the weapon to my side and take a breath. Not even a challenge. _You shot them good. He is getting cocky. You are getting egotistical._ Yeah, you guys are right. However, I am still not as bad as Nathanos.

Turning, I take a look at the man of whom I speak. Strangely, he is shifting through the rope rapidly, tying ends of the strands to arrows. Or, he sticks an arrow straight through the rope. What could he be doing? _You think that is strange. He feels Nathanos is losing his mind._ Nathanos does seem like it…

A voice yells from my side, "Blackwood!" It is Carlin. "Blackwood, another wave inbound!"

Without hesitating, I spin, load the gun and fire a round off. A ghoul a good distance away folds backwards and breaks. Another round glides smoothly into my weapon, and again, I fire. A second ghoul falls, but the rest are moving far too quickly. Again, I load, fire, and proceed to watch the death sequence, but it is not enough. Another shot fired. Another down. Almost upon us.

Fire again! Too late.

Fortunately, the warriors pitted against the small barricade are ready. Carlin darts upwards, throws his shield forward, and stabs a ghoul square in the face. Quickly following, Jon leaps into position and takes a skeleton by surprise. Finally, Mark lunges to his feet, swings his shield in an arch, and slams against one…two…three skeletons! _You are jealous of that strength! He needs to give that man his shovel!_

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure nearing on me. Quickly I throw my gun back, bring my shovel forward, and let the fiend have it!

THUD

Its frail skull caves in easily. In a hurry it falls to the ground, collapsing into itself as most skeletons do. At that, I pull myself down behind the broken wagon and give myself a moment to rest.

"They just do not stop," Jon talks while we wait, "This is just crazy."

Carlin sighs loudly then turns to him, "Lad, you know as well as I these creatures know no rest. They hunt forever. No matter where we go, they are lurking behind us. They are our shadow." He shakes his head then sighs again, "I just wish the light would find a way to break the following taint."

Distracting us all, a loud screeching sound of wood against stone fills the air. Pivoting my head, I watch as Nathanos shoves a large, wooden object to the side. It comes to a rest in the middle of the outpost and creates a large barrier to direction from where we came. _You cannot see a thing that way anymore. He is blind to the path._

I cannot help but gaze up to the crazed undead and speak, "Nathanos, why…did you just do that?" _You are profound. He is the master of questioners._

Without turning to me, he talks. "Lanterns, Worm, lanterns! There are dozens everywhere yet none anywhere!" His hands fly into the air. "Why oh why cannot I spy a lantern for me eyes!?"

I do not say a word. That was strange. I am pretty sure he just made a short rhyme about…lanterns. _You are sure? He is slowly becoming saner than Nathanos._

Suddenly, movement from my side draws my attention. Carlin peers up over the wall and then drifts back down.

He turns to me and talks, "Nothing to shoot at now, Blackwood. Looks like they forgot we are even here."

He then leans back and sighs again. However, while he rests there in peace, a riot of words rattles the boundaries of my mind. The darkness follows him. _You are followed by it too. He knows it follows all. _But how can he be so hopeless? I tried to boost his spirits once, but…how is he depressed already? _You have not seen as much as him. He, Carlin, has lost everyone._

But I have lost many too. My parents, both are dead. But, I still am ready to fight. How? What is he missing? _You do not miss what he does. He still has a spark of light in him. You see a flare of light. He can see a glow of light; he can see the beacon._

Yes, the beacon! How foolish of me!

I cough and gather the attention of the others before I speak, "Carlin, do not act so sad. Like my mum once said, in times that are dark, a beacon of light will shine brightly for all good to see, and for all dark to fear."

His eyes narrow at me. The dark pupils focus firmly on me. Do you think I said something wrong to him? Do you think I angered him? _You did no such thing. He isn't dead yet, is he?_ What? _He…forget it._

Still staring at me, he appears to ready himself to talk, but wild laughter from the crazy one interrupts him, "Really, worm? Your mother apparently knows of something I lost sight of years ago! Please, could you tell me where that is?" He laughs again then, oddly stops. "Worm, you are always a fool of blind hope."

Moving back to his work he continues with the rope…thing…he was busy with earlier. Good thing, too. He is getting rather annoying.

Yet again, movement from my side catches my attention, and again, it comes from Carlin. Jerking over the wall, he gazes at the forces again, but this time he pauses. Narrowing his vision he appears to have seen something.

And from what yells at us, it has seen us too, "Brave warriors of the light!" A deep, dark voice booms loudly, "You have grown to be a thorn in this operation's side! Feel free to remove yourself, and reposition in the city to die like the rest!"

I lift over the side of the barrier, and before us, a man covered in a thick, blackish, metal armor stands. His pale face reminds me of many that I have buried, while the shifting armor reminds me of the image of my nightmares. Slowly, he inches his way towards us. As he does, a large, metal sword drags across the surface of the ground

Stopping near what appears to be a large grave, he waves his hand at the mounds, the pile of resting souls, and then turns to us, "Very well, warriors. May the permanent residents of these lands become your enemies!"

Rumbling, the mounds shake. Quaking, the piles of rest souls shift. Bursting, the ones thought to be dead begin to rise from their homes. How dare he disturb their tombs! How dare he ruin their sleep?! _You must calm down. He must relax._

Within my chest, a surge of warmth builds behind the throbbing voice that is my hate! Quickening, motivation flows through my veins and feeds my determination. How dare he! _You must…_

They were perfectly buried! He ruined such beautiful work! HOW DARE HE?!

Rising to my feet, I draw a round to my gun. The bolt screams _death_ as it comes into place. The lens aligns with the fool who dares destroy the end of life. Here comes your justice, tool.

TITHBURSH

His right shoulder bounces back. The round clanked off the thick metal! Repositioning himself he laughs then slowly begins to turn. The bolt screams again, and again, the lens finds itself before my eye. Die, fool. _You must calm. He must focus…_

TITHBURSH

The lens tells me the truth of hit. Red fluid splashes across the side of his head, and runs down his neck. I hope you liked that. May that scar remind you of what you have done.

He raises his hand and feels the side of his head. Rolling over the wound, he rubs the spot where his ear used to be. Lowering his hand, he peers at the source of life that still rests in his cold veins and spins. His eyes narrow on me. I can feel his rage flowing.

I can feel his icy eyes lock with mine. My veins stop, frozen by his stare. I do not know what I have done, but I feel it shall be I who will suffer. _You should have focused. He should have aimed carefully._

Raising his sword, he points the tip in our direction. It rocks in place for a moment before he turns to the now standing dead that were once buried, "Kill them. Kill them then add them to our ranks!" Glaring back at me he smiles, "Except for that one, save him for me. I wish to watch him die."

Hurriedly, he marches back to the main force and vanishes into the mob. A churning in my stomach tells me something I cannot quite understand. The fluids rumble loudly, yelling to my mind of the nightmares to come. I am not sure why this feeling burns within, but it burns fiercely. _You know why. He just told his soldiers to kill you, and mainly you. You must ignore him for now. He must stop the attackers._

Instantly removing the fiend from my mind, I shift sights to the charging zombies. Their arms rise limply in front of them. Decaying feet drag them quickly forward. Emotionless faces guide them aimlessly.

Movement draws my attention to the side for a moment. There, another wave of skeletons and ghouls advances along with the zombies. They strike down the same path as before, but the zombies are coming from a more northern location. From this position, I can tell that this is not a good situation. _You know you are outnumbered. He knows he needs to thin their strength._

So I shall! The gun comes up quickly, and in a flash a round fires off. A zombie collapses straight down, tripping up another one behind it. Again, I fire, and for another time, I end the already ended. Changing my target slightly this time, I aerate a ghoul's skull then reload.

There are still far too many, no matter how fast I shoot. _You know you cannot hold. He must get them to move._ But to where?

Suddenly, Carlin's voice echoes loudly, "Nathanos, they are coming! There are far too many!"

From behind, Nathanos shouts back, "Preparations must be made!"

_Thud._ A rumble quietly rises from Nathanos' direction.

Carlin yells loudly, covering the new sound easily, "Marris, we cannot stay here!"

I fire again. _Thud._ I barely hear it over the gun.

Again, Carlin shouts, "Nathanos, this is not a question, we have to move!"

Nathanos grunts then replies, "Preparations must be completed in order to prepare!"

_Thud. _The sound is familiar.

It is as if an array of sounds decided to bombard me all at once!

A loud explosion that sounds like glass shattering fills the air, then Nathanos laughs, "The preparations are complete for the lanterns are all belong to me!"

Quickly I turn, and I watch in a state of confusion as Nathanos pours the thick fluid all over the ropes. After a moment of this strange activity, he throws the broken lamp to the side then raises his hands into the air. "We are ready!"

Carlin leaps up after I fire another round then shouts at him again, "Fool, what are you preparing for?"

_THUD. _I remember that sound. Odd that I could ever forget.

Unfortunately, the dark voice gives me a proper reminder of why my ignorance was foolish, "Nathanos! There you are!"

Twisting my head slightly, I regretfully peer over in the direction where the sound came from. Dishearteningly, I take in the full sight and sigh. His head is tilted down slightly, and he moves heavily and determinedly. He seems to have missed our company.

Oddly, Nathanos does not move. Instead, he leans his head back, and…laughs, "About time." His eyes shift to Carlin and he chuckles, "Preparations…were for that."

The monster lumbers quickly at our position. Each step he takes quakes the ground. Each step he takes brings him to us. Each step he takes, my heart sinks. _You need to worry about other things. He needs to remember there are zombies still. _

Oh no.

Spinning, I bring my gun to sight, and before me the wave closes in. Much closer than before, I cannot help but take a step back. Hesitating for a moment, I take the closest zombie in sight and fire. He falls fa…

THUD

Bracing myself, I hold against the same old shockwave. He is closing in on us. Both sides close in. There is no way for us to go; zombies from the north, skeletons from the west…whatever he and his army to the east. Nowhere to flee to. _You are too jumpy. He jumps to conclusions far too quickly. _ Wait, what do you mean? There is no way out. They have us trapped. _You need to look in all directions. He needs to scan for openings…yes…openings…in all his surroundings. You need to look south._

Spinning, I look over all the lands. My eyes take in trees, grass, broken hedges and a steep hill. Scanning the hill carefully, I search upwards and come to the thick, gray wall from before. Sweeping it, I scan the large, pink mound resting outside the wall then gaze at the debris. Finally, I take in the gapping hole in the wall.

Obviously, that is what I was looking for. _You are good. He is a genius. _But time is short, we need to get moving, no more delaying!

Turning, I throw my weapon to my back, and run south through the broken caravans. As I near the edge of the broken craft, I turn back to the others and yell, "Get moving, slowpokes! This is our only way out."

Carlin instantly shifts his head in my direction and smiles. In no time he is heading towards me. Behind him, the Brothers follow closely. Sadly, nearing the wall, the skeletons seem to be slowly closing the gap.

Carlin stops at me and turns around. "Hope, I do not know where you come from in your head sometimes," He pauses, "but I pray you keep straying to wherever that may be."

At that, he starts to move, but stops to gaze at something still moving at the post. "I only wish Nathanos would come back from wherever he went."

He sighs, and it forces me to turn. I cannot help but watch in horror as Nathanos meshes parts of tent together and throws it on the back of Watcher. Quickly, he does the same with the other dog before turning to me. Taking quick steps in my direction, he turns, shoots a few incoming zombies then keeps moving. I really have no idea what he is thinking. _You cannot read his mind this time. He is the one lost wandering._

At that, we head off down the slight slope, and make our way through the trees. The Brothers and Carlin lead just ahead of us, while I lag behind. I cannot see Nathanos anywhere, so worriedly, I look back to make sure he didn't decide to crazily march back to the outpost.

I cannot believe what I am seeing.

He grabs a rope from his shoulder, pulls the arrow attached to it, and shoots at…a tree. After it lands firmly, he takes what appears to be an arrow at the other end of the rope, and drives it into the mesh on the dogs back. I do no think he is there. The zombies are climbing over the makeshift barrier, but he just walks away calmly. _You remind me of him. He is a spitting image of that undead man_

Now, I am growing nervous. And that takes talent to make me worry. _You have to deal with us. He knows how annoying we can be._

Waving to him, I can feel my legs begin to tremble, "Nathanos, please, you must move! The Scourge will reach you any second."

Ignoring me, he shoots, stabs and continues.

I take a step towards, but he acts if I am not here. Again, he shoots and stabs. Another time, he shoots, stabs. Finally, he sighs then looks at me. "Worm, you must plan every moment." He moves to me, coming extremely close to my face. "Especially when you have filled your chilled heart with hate."

He laughs, and then continues up the hill. It is not a long walk, and in a matter of seconds we come near the wall, but out of nowhere, Nathanos stops and spins around.

Looking out from the wall, he chuckles, and then does what I never imagined him foolish enough to do. He yells out to them. "Stop roaming around the wreckage, you lumbering idiot."

I turn in horror. Standing there, confused, the giant rests amongst the ruins of the outpost and gazes upward. At first it appears dazed by the voice, then it glances over in our direction. It shakes from laughter then heads its way towards us. _Thud thud thud_, it slowly walks towards us, trampling the grass and pushing the trees aside. The rope slides past its body as it moves.

Nathanos suddenly laughs again before kneeling to talk to his dog. "Boys, that big, mean monster wishes to play with you." He pauses before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a glowing skull. "Fetch."

He throws it forward. I watch in awe as it bounces across the ground. Skipping over a stone, it takes a quick jerk to the right, with the dogs close behind. Slamming against a tree, it flies to the right quickly, forcing the dogs to dart around the tall object.

From the corner of my eye, Nathanos draws an arrow with some rope tied to it and grunts. "Play, my babies, play."

The arrow whips past the trees, and slams hard into the dog's mesh! Oddly, the dog appears to have not noticed the impact. Instead, it shoots after the moving skull. Whipping to the side, the skull takes a leap into the air, and at that, the dogs split, and head in different directions.

One sprints forward, ignoring another arrow hit its side. The other flies to the right, dodging trees as if it is an art.

Suddenly, the giant takes my focus again as he forces his way through the trees. "Fools, the King was right, if we lead you maggots, then you will follow so eagerly." It laughs. "He said you would fight at that post, and so valiantly you did! He said you would run to the city, and so you have!"

He nears us quickly, while the pups below shoot past his giant feet as the bone makes a spin down near his legs. Strangely, it hits a rock then bounces backwards towards us. Moving his leg, the giant catches the bone with his foot and sends it flying. The dogs quickly skid, reverse direction then dart at the bone. They fly in between his feet and scramble for the skull.

While they leap around down there, it speaks again. "Do you think you could run from us? Do you think you could hide from us?"

The dogs smash into each other and their meshing gets tangled. "Do you think the Scourge will not find you?"

After a moment, it breaks free from their backs, hovering from tension midair. "The One True King is our guide, and soon, it shall show you the true direction!"

Nathanos unexpectedly laughs to the giant's comments. "If your blasted King is all knowing, then did he predict your death?"

The creature stops for a brief moment. "We are immortal, you idiot! Unlike you, and your filthy leader of an ugly woman, we shall live forever!"

With that, its foot smashes into the floating mesh, and the ropes tighten wildly, bending the trees downward. Branches crash into the monster's head, while dripping rope entangles it's feet. It struggles to move, letting out a grunt of frustration.

Nathanos gives me a tap, and then motions his head to a quickly, and horribly, made mixture of sticks and dried leaves. He nods at me and points at it. "Would you mind shooting the end of this, worm?"

A strange request, if you ask me, but quickly, I grab my gun, load it, and fire at the end. Breaking from the mess, some of it is dragged from the explosion, while sparks from the chamber appear to have ignited the mess. He stabs an arrow quickly into the flame, lets it catch fire, and chuckles.

He stares at it for a moment, twirling it in his fingers. "You insulted my lady and trampled my home."

In a flash he draws his bow, and lets the arrow fly. It hits moist leg of the monster and at first, nothing happens. Do you think he missed? _You know he doesn't miss. He knows Nathanos has prefect aim._

Nathanos leans back and sighs, "Yet I still treat you with the same treatment any one besieger deserves! Not even your King is so kind."

Wait, there, a spark! Bursting, the fire catches part of the rope and boom! It spreads. The rope sets fire in a flash, then the tree. Another rope, it travels down another rope! Soaring past another tree, the flame burns brighter! More ropes, the mesh, an explosion of lights and colors! The roar of the flames build, and so does the cry of the fiend below the growing wall.

My eyes take in all the sight, letting the dancing flames lick their way up its body and set fire to all that it touches. I gaze at its foot, and smile as the bark, flesh and debris turn to a fireball of destruction. Following up the limb, the fire comes to the torso. There, branches jut in every direction and burn like torches. But the smoldering arms are what draw my attention.

Yes, those mighty objects bare the weight of the fire god's fiery, while the small – small to it – mossy head vomits flames high into the sky. What a marvelous sight. What a marvelous sight indeed! _You are telling me. He thinks it is awesome!_

I can almost feel the warmth, and loud roar silences the screams of the beast. My eyes of good navigate upon the object, and cannot help but watch as zombies and skeletons of evil flee from the burning mess.

Then, from behind, I can hear Nathanos talking, and from the sounds of it, he speaks to me. "Worm," He stops.

I quickly reply to let him know I am here, "Yes, Nathanos?"

He laughs, "How do you like our beacon?"


	12. Into the City

Into the City

I scan the disgusting blob outside the walls. It lies face down and all of its limbs are spread across the ground. A few scars rest on its sides and a large, dried, pool of blood surrounds the sides of the nasty monster. From the looks of it, it took damages to its front mainly, and from the debris around it, it appears to have…rammed the wall. _You are now a certified detective. He has a new job._

Speaking of such ideas, I should bury him, but I am not moving that nor digging the hole for it. _You could chop him up and treat it like a bunch of bodies. He could be a butcher along with a gravedigger and detective! _No point in arguing this case. I am outnumbered like usual.

I continue to stare at the monster, but while I do I notice movement down the hill. The creature managed to break free from his binds and stumbled off towards the ocean. Figure the beast is going to drown is sorrows in the sea.

However, that is not where the movement is, no. At the base of the hill, I can see bleached bones rattling towards us. Mingling with the white objects, fleshy ghouls claw the soil and move slowly towards the site where the giant burned. We do not have much time before they discover us here. _You will be noticed soon. He will have more friends to play with. _But that is not for a bit. We have time.

Peering back to the wall, the rest of the pack hide at the sides of the whole. Nathanos leans his head into the gapping wound, while the other three struggle to find space on the right side. Carefully, I come up to Nathanos' side then peer in to see what they are looking at.

Once in position, I quickly realize what they are staring at. The bulk of the army of the Scourge aligns itself at the small moat to the far left end of the scene. Banners of purple damnation rise into the air, while weapons point forward to guide death's path. Ahead of the troops rest four men clad in that thick armor that the one-ear had on. All of them wield massive swords, and stand patiently. They wait to advance, and all that stops them is a small, man-made river.

Scanning the moat itself, I look to see what the problem is. From what I can see, the only way across that said moat is by a bridge that rests vertically on the opposite side of the chasm. Fortunately, they have no troops resting on that bank. It appears the unstoppable scourge is delayed by something so insignificant. _You tell them how they failed! He should go up to them and laugh in their faces!_

Then, I notice movement at the opposite wall from us. A dark figure marches up a small flight of stairs – exactly the same as the ones a few feet in front of us. He takes his time coming to the top of them before stopping and turning the front of himself to us. Thankfully, his head peers forward at the moat.

It is now I recognize something about this figure. A dark red stain covers the side of his head. It runs down the middle of his neck and it fades into his armor. The stain rests on the middle of his head, where his ear used to be. Standing across from us is defiler of the graves.

As I gaze at him I cannot help, but feel a combination of joy and sadness. The wound on his ugly skull overwhelms my pride; he lost it for his foolishness and misuse of power. However, my soul cries as I gaze upon his hollowed person, and I cannot help but feel the cold chill that runs down my spine and ruins the sense of accomplishment.

_You said a mouthful. He technically thought a mouthful. You silence yourself. He should learn to say the truth! Wait, do you mean you or do you mean me? I am referring to you, numbskull. Hey, I share Hope's skull, so therefore, you insult him! You take that back_…

Silence! Bah, I cannot think with the both of you yelling at each other. Do you even know how weird that sounds? The voices in my head are having an argument with each other? Really, how do I tell someone that? _You do it carefu….He better not finish that!_

Thankfully, a voice from my side draws my attention. "Quite a dilemma." Nathanos speaks softly. "We need in the city, yet, the only way in is blocked by a wall of Scourge."

Carlin sighs, "Pretty much sums it up."

Nathanos shakes his head then speaks. "Sums up everything besides the inevitable discovery of this hole and the individuals standing by it." He pauses for a moment then continues, "We cannot sit here forever. These fools may be blinded by their progression, but eventually their vision will wander away from their goal."

I can see Carlin glide his hand over his smooth head before replying. "So, what do you recommend we do? Obviously, like you said, we cannot wait here to be swarmed by the army."

Gazing to Carlin, Nathanos grunts. "Sadly, that is exactly what we are going to have to do."

Carling does not reply to that comment. Instead, he focuses forward, letting the mass fill is senses. They block our path. They are all we see. Their filthy stench permeates the air wildly. Standing there, their still demeanor causes the ground to tremble. Or that is simply our legs quaking where we rest.

Unexpectedly, the one-eared man twitches, rests on his large weapon, and then points towards the gate. For a moment he lets his thick, plated finger hover in the air before he decides to speak to the nothing that is there, "Lost members of the Scourge, hear my cry!"

His dark voice booms, filling the chamber with its darkness. "You no longer need to burden yourself with the agony of death. No longer are you required to face it alone!" A deep, dark chuckle echoes from his mouth. "No, do not let the false words of your fake Queen discourage you!"

Moving from his weapon, he stands upright and faces the empty bank. "Bask in the glory that is your true god! May he remove the curse that is freedom from your existence! Come, answer the call your true leader! The call of your one, true king!"

Silence follows. For a good, long time, there is nothing but silence. But then, emerging from the vacant bank, two figures appear. Their posture and figure bears resemblance of Nathanos, but they seem lost.

Dragging forward then quickly to the side, they appear to move as if someone is guiding them. Jolting wildly, their bodies seem to almost break to the sudden movements. Such a strange action. What could they possibly be doing? _You do not know. He does not want to._

They stop abruptly then turn to the wall. Fidgeting with a strange object, they shift what appears to be weird chains and ropes. Oh no. I know what they are doing. We must stop them! _You must! How does he stop them?!_

A sharp bark fills my ears, "Those fools! Do they now know what they do?" Nathanos sounds frustrated. "They will unleash hell upon this city!"

Before he can even finish his statement, a rope flies from one of the fool's hands, slices clear through his then the other's torso, and then whips uncontrollably in the air. Both fall to the ground, twitching for only a moment before coming to rest. Sadly, the once vertical bridge no longer stays resting as before.

Gliding downwards, it moves fast as the loose chain bounces across the ground. Within seconds it draws to the ground. While it does, I cannot help but look back to the empty bank. There is no one there to defend it. The monsters will flow across it and march easily into the city.

Or so I thought.

As if the warriors had heard my thoughts, a wave of troops bursts from the two entrance ways that lie in the path of the falling bridge. Shields brace the first troops, while bows, guns, heavy spears, and the wizard magic accompanies the rest.

As one heads forward, he comes to the almost landed bridge and shouts loudly for his others to hear. "Soldiers of Lady Slyvanas, we have been betrayed! Your false brothers have let the Scourge into our city, and now, they continue with their falsity by giving them passage straight to our heart!" He pauses for a moment, "Let these fools know we beat them once, and damn it, they shall fall again!"

His words dance across the skies. They play with my mind, drilling thoughts of determination and motivation deep into my brain. Their sweet, gentle arms wrap around my body, and bring more life to me than I ever imagined. _You now have a lot of life. He has more than enough for everyone. He can share!_

However, before I can speak to the few here, Nathanos begins to speak. "I know why they did what they did." His eyes navigate to the broken blob behind us. "The king's words are driving us mad. Somehow, they are returning…and we cannot escape them."

Reaching down, I grab a hold of the undead man, and look into his rather startled eyes. "Then let us fight them! May they break as easily as his armies!"

He simply stares at me. All he does for a short while is stare at me. Then, unexpectedly he laughs and his eyes widens. "Worm, you know no fear! You know no sadness!" Pushing me aside he comes to his feet and slaps my shoulder. "May your strength serve us forever!"

Erupting loudly, the sound of metal upon metal fills the air. Swords swing wildly. Bows fling crazily. Shields block passionately. Bodies fall rhythmically. Upon the small bridge, over the small moat, resting before the vast army of shadow, the great battle for Undercity begins.

As I watch the side of light fight fearlessly against the surge of doom, a quiet rustling flows from behind. Turning quickly, I catch the undead crawling up the hill. Skeletons stumble upon the steep slope while ghouls trip over their own dangling flesh. Sneaky fools, trying to ambush us from behind.

Rushing out, I come to a large stone that was once the wall, place my foot on it and give it a shove. It bounces down the hill and slams into the skull of a minion. Continuing on, it bursts through the chest of a ghoul and vaporizes a skeletons torso before finally stopping in the hips of another.

I turn back to Nathanos and yell at him as I walk through the hole. "Nathanos, it is now or never. Our friends are gaining on us."

Before he can say a word, I step forward, lock my eyes on the one-eared tool, and smile. _You better not do it. He better not say it!_

"One-eared man, I am Hope Blackwood!" He turns, his eyes narrowing on me. "And I shall bury…" Suddenly I am interrupted.

Grabbing my shirt Nathanos grunts. "Worm, don't your dare say it!" Rushing past me, he darts to the staircase and turns back to me. "Charge worm, charge!"

Without hesitation, I leap forward landing right behind him. After a second he jumps straight down, heading into the mass. I follow in suit, and from the sound coming from behind the others are trailing close.

Ahead, the skeletons have broken from the swarm. Arms raised, shoulders locked back, mouths wide open they appear to be ready for a good fight. Reaching back, I take hold of the trusty shovel and bring it forward. Once again, the sounds of battle ring across the broken skies.

Below, hundreds of feet shovel across the tormented soil. Swords end all silence with the screams of their grinding metals. Shields echo the failures of strong thrusts. Yells of terror, battle cries of strength, howls of enraged skeletons all rain up into the sky and tell all of the horror here.

The sounds drive the spirit and fuel the heart. My arm moves my strength backward. Within seconds, the Scourge is upon us, and just as quickly, my shovel soars forward.

_THUMP_

Its skull shatters and drives into the rib cage before the skeleton collapses to the floor. Another takes its place, but my swing is far too fast. In a flash the fine blade crashes into the side of its skull, splintering it in two. A third lunges forward. Again, I thrust the spade, but this time it lands in the chest, causing it to explode in a spectacle of bone and marrow.

A fourth. Hurriedly, I drag my blade forward, and finish the foe before the fight even began. _You need to watch your side. He…look, NOW_

My heard rotates to the right, and I do not need any more help seeing what they have yelled at me. Looming over my being, a skeleton clad in thick metal readies his fierce sword. The blade sparkles in the bright moonlight, and smiles widely for me. Arching backwards with the shifting, it rises high in the air. Stopping for a moment, it gives me to ready my own death.

But what a foolish thought.

A blur emerges in my sight. The skeleton skids in the side before coming to a spot. Carlin braces his shield firmly before him. His sword shoots forward just as fast he appeared in this fight. Ignoring all of the useless armor easily, the fine blade sinks deep into the chest of the skeleton. Finishing its job, it flies back to Carlin's side.

At that, I spin forward, swing again and stop another charging fool. Then, from my left side, a tall figure comes into sight. Thrusting his shield forward, Mark slams a skeleton into non-existence. Its chest caves in while its arms snap off. I do not know how hard that boy just hit that thing for, but it didn't see it coming. _You wish you could hit something that hard. He wishes he could have a shield. _

Pulling my shovel to the front, it deflects ghoul's claws just in time. The creature readies itself for second strike, but something ends his will instantly. A small blade rests in the ghoul's chest. Crumbling from the blow, the ghoul falls, while my sight shifts to see what did it.

Kneeling behind Mark, and to the side of me, Jon rests with a smile of accomplishment on his face. He chuckles then stands tall. "Figured you could use a hand. They seem to like you, and that makes it easier for me." He laughs again then thrusts forward.

Turning, his blade catches another ghoul in the jaw. Again, it falls, and again Jon chuckles, "See, they want you badly, which means they don't want me!"

I cannot help but smile. However, I have grown slightly tired from this attention. My body needs to rest. _You need a break. He needs to let the others hold the line for a brief moment._

Taking a step back, I remove myself from the fight for a brief second to adjust myself. Jon is right, these creatures definitely have a strong desire to end me, but why? Bah, that is no concern; I was just there first.

While I rest here, my vision sweeps back and forward. To my right, Carlin stands ready for any attacker. Occasionally, a few stupid ghouls decide they wish to die, and Carlin is more than willing to satisfy their desire.

Scanning to the other side, Mark crushes anything that dear stray in his direction, while Jon covers the gap in the line that I just created. Shifting a little further, I catch Nathanos. His blades whip in a crazed frenzy. He does not wait for anyone. No, he strikes into the heart of the surge. His blades dance across as many as they can find. Bodies fall before him in droves.

He is a machine. _Nathanos is a beast. Nathanos is a great warrior._

My eyes drift from him for a moment. Peering at the forces on the bridge, they stand close to Nathanos. They fight wildly, swinging swords, blasting fireballs, and releasing arrows for those ahead. Massive shields stop the advance, but even with their strength, they cannot live forever against the Scourge's relentless might. Many fall upon that bridge. Many die to stop the dead. Many fight.

Unexpectedly, I lock eyes with a figure resting at the back of the bridge, behind the main formation. For a second he stares at me then glances over to the rest of us fighting on this side. He continues to gaze for a moment before tilting his head back and apparently laughing.

"Brothers, Commander Blightcaller!" He yells loudly, "Make way for our hero! Make way for his brave allies!"

It is as if the entire force near him turns their head in our direction. They all look intently on what the one just said, then, they all begin to yell.

Deep cries of battle ring from their throats. Cheers of rally echo across the ranks. The shouts slip deep into the courage of all, and as one, the force pushes forward. At the same time some shift back. Why are they moving like that? _You see an empty space on that bridge. He notices a large landing spot for a big plane or a tiny man. He knows, a man. Any man._

Ok, I got it the first time. Err, anyway, you are right. They shift to make a large opening on the bridge. There, they wave their arms to us. Each one signals for us to leap towards them. Each one appears to shout.

It is almost as if I can hear their calls. "Hope!" Except, that sounds too familiar.

"Hope!" Again, but I am certain it comes from somewhere else.

"Hope, look out!"

Without thinking, I spin back to army I had foolishly forgotten. The mass is the same as before, but something dark shifts its way through the crowd. Thick, black metal covers his entire body. In his hands a massive sword rests. I can just barely make out his face. On it, an angered expression rests. A red stain covers the side of his head.

Rushing through his army, he comes barreling at me. Within seconds, he comes upon us. Within seconds, he prepares to destroy that which defied him. Within seconds, he is here. Pulling my shovel forward, I take a step forward and ready myself.

However, Jon beats me to him. Leaping in the man's path, he foolishly thrusts forward. Strangely, he has caught the man unprepared! His sword stabs into the torso of the fool, passing all that fancy armor! Fine show! _You must not be so hasty to cheer. He knows a deathknight's strength._

As if he heard me, he raises his sword. The air itself seems to flee to escape the weapon's path. Slamming against Jon's shield, it knocks the boy backwards. Just as quickly as the first strike, the second thrust flies at the boy. Jon is able to move, but he is not fast enough. Striking across his right side, the blade sends a small wave of red into the air.

Jon twitches, spins and falls to his back. His eyes pull to the figure overhead. The deathknight pulls his blade to his side and swings it upward.

He stops for a moment and smiles. "You should have stayed out of the way, fool. This was not your fight, but it shall be your last!"

My feet move. Rustling forward, I swing my spade backwards. He will not touch him! He will not take what is close to me! But he shall receive all that can come from me!

_THUMP_

Crashing against his skull, the figure seems unfazed, yet surprised. Before he can even react, I pull the blade down, swing up, and _THUMP._ It collides with his jaw and sends him stumbling back into the crowd. However, I draw spade for a third time, swing it behind my back, and _THUMP._ It smashes into side of his head, cuts his eyebrow and forces him deeper into the crowd.

Falling back, he stops amongst his warriors. Skeletons sweep in front of him and block his path. Ghouls gather around to protect him. He, however, cares nothing of himself. No, his dull eyes are locked firmly with mine. Blood runs from the corner of his eye, while his lips tremble from rage. Slowly, he fades into the masses. Slowly, he vanishes from sight. However, that hate is always there.

Even when he no longer absorbs my vision, his rage is there.

A stern voice washes across my ears. It drives to my mind, bringing memories of the past to my mind. It should instantly draw my easily distracted attention, but for some reason all I can do is stare blindly into the shifting mass of bones and flesh.

Returning, the crackly voice smacks me this time, "Worm, decide on moving, and do it quickly! I would be terribly saddened to leave you to die!"

The muscles on my neck finally react. Dragging against my spine, I can almost feel each individual tendril doing its part. It takes a long moment to shift my gaze to Nathanos, but I have done it. He stands near the bridge and holds back droves of relentless foes. From what I can see, Mark stands firmly on the bridge, his arms extended to us.

A blur fills my sight as a silver clad warrior shoots rapidly forward. He stops for nothing, not even the moat. His feet lock with the firm soil, his legs bend, and with a firm leap, he flies to Mark. The tall man grips the elderly individual at his sides and quickly brings him down to the bridge.

I begin moving forward, but stop instantly as I notice Jon struggling to get to his feet. Quickly, I reach down, the sounds of the angry dead filling my ears as I do. Jon's partially dulled eyes gaze upon mine and he smiles.

Reaching his hand out, he takes a hold of mine. "Hope, you are amazing!" With a swift jerk, he is to his feet. "Only you could bring a deathknight to his senses with a shovel."

His voice cracks gently as he attempts to laugh. Stopping short, his hands navigate to a wound on his side. A small wave of blood has dried below the cut itself, but it is nonetheless evident.

He winces as he touches it then looks up to me. "Don't worry about me, Hope, just a weak cut." He chuckles again. "Nothing too bad. Definitely not a shovel to the face."

Again he laughs, but sadly, the rumble from our side is incredibly overwhelming. I turn to the crowd once again, but, for some reason, they ignore our presence. The wall of skeletons advances aimlessly at the mesh of fallen warriors. A simple few make their way to the poor Nathanos, but they make no attempts us two.

That contradicts the methods prior to this. _You are just lucky. He should be thankful that one-eared man wants him dead. Personally._

Once again, the deep voice of the one and only takes my mind from the confusing, "Worm, I swear, I will walk over to you, kill you, and drag you to the bridge myself!"

Reacting firmly like I always do, I grab a hold of Jon and help him move. Jon whimpers under his breath then grunts. Letting go of his arm, I shrug at him and smile.

He simply lowers one eyebrow then raises another, but does not speak. I, however, talk loudly for us both. "Jon, you first."

Nodding, he braces his sight upon the bridge, draws in a deep breath the charges. He crushes the grass below us feet. Bits of brown matter break beneath his step. Green fragments float as he pushes on. Bending then jumping, he sails through the air gracefully.

Mark quickly reacts with a grab, and a firm placement on the faded, cracked bridge. Nathanos flails wildly at my side, and grunts to me. He swings a few more times, sending wafts of bone and dead filth into the air.

He grunts again, the gazes barks at me, "Worm, need me to hold your hand?"

I sigh then take to my feet. The grass crunches below, and with a firm leap, I am up. Floating for a brief second, Mark's insanely firm grip brings back me back down to the solid ground below. A loud, dull thudding sound echoes from my feet. Once I have gained my foot, I turn back to Nathanos.

Alone on the side of moat, he fights back another skeleton. A dark red and white ghoul scrambles after the poor warrior, but the monster's weak body is no match for the fury of Nathanos' weapons.

Now is his chance. He shifts forward a few feet, spins and sprints fast. Like the rest, he runs, leaps, but…no! Emerging from the crowd, a black clad knight bursts out. Extending his sinister arms, he rams his fists into Nathanos' side while he take-offs.

His legs float outward. The force has sent him a drift! He will miss the platform for certain! _Not if you guide him! He must help give path to the wayward warrior! _

Leaning to the side, I let my fingers fly into the air. Each one dances in the cold around it. The muscles driving every single bone tighten to its maximum. My body itself begins to move in the direction of these furious crawlers, but I do not care. Let me fall.

Drifting down, my eyes soak in the bright green, disgusting fluid below. Waves of black matter weave its way into what I can only imagine is sickening thick water. I quickly glance back up just in time to watch Nathanos' let his long arm and bony hands collide with mine. Gripping firmly, the force jerks me forward. My feet cannot hold me.

Sliding, im ready to fall, but suddenly, I stop. A strong force erupts through my sides. I can feel myself drift backwards while I watch the floating soldier arch in a clockwise motion. Moving fast, he continues to drift. My arm burns maddeningly from the endeavor, but I shall not let go!

Not until…he…is…over…solid ground! Within a second, he floats near the other bank, but my grip is slipping! He begins moving down my arm. His fingers tear my flesh while move, but he is not there yet! Now over the edge, just a little longer! I must ignore the pain. _You must let it drive you. He must…wow…he is cutting you badly, ouch._

His fingers slip past mine. The force vanishes. Nathanos breaks from his circular course, and shoots over in a straight path away from us. Flying over the mass of Undercity Warriors, he passes them in a flash before slamming hard against a stonewall. Sinking down, he disappears into the masses.

Throbbing at an insane pace, my heart dances within my chest. Pushing my way through the crowd, I head to where I believe he landed. Behind, the swords continue to scream as they smash against exposed bone, and metal screeches as claws tear through rotting flesh; all the sounds of battle rage on, but I must ignore them. These brave warriors have their positions they do not need me.

Coming to the wall, I see Nathanos slowly pulling himself to his feet. By the time I reach him, the fellow undead have aided him to his upright position and he glances over to me. For a second he shakes his head before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a mess of clothe.

Shoving it in my direction he grunts, "Take this, worm, apparently I need to cut my fingernails."

Hesitantly I take it from him, but am instantly reminded why he did it. Peering to my arm, slight cut stray down my forearm and to my wrist. I wrap it up firmly and let it be covered from sight. They are not terrible. _You are hurt. He can feel the pain._

As glance from my arm, I can see Nathanos darting to one the entrances. Stopping at it, he turns to me and shouts, "Worm, Carlin, boys, get moving. These men have their jobs, while we have ours, move!"

Disappearing, he heads off. I begin to move after him, but a sudden movement by my legs. My eyes are barely fast enough to catch two speeding furballs glide through the mass. I really do not know where they hide. Were they taught this? Hide when master is fighting, or do they just enjoy a good show? _Focus, you, focus. He does bring up valid points. You must not encourage him!_

Ignoring you both, I press forward. I come to the doorway, letting the grayed arches that are covered in a dark green vine kill my sight. Shifting to the far edge of the wall, I let the others pass will gaze back at the battle. Mark slips by first, and then Carling. The old man stops for a second, gives my shoulder a slap then carries on.

Jon, however, slowly passes by. His eyes lock with mine for a second, and the dulled orbs tell me a dark story. However, he smiles to hide the tale and speaks, "Hope, you are something else." He chuckles, "I am taking you to lunch when this is over."

Lunch? Really? I have never actually eaten with someone else. A smile stretches over my face and I nod, "That would be amazing! But, can we eat real, warm food? I am sick of partially cold bread that I eat."

He laughs, "Of course, Hope, of course."

And then he disappears from sight. Turning my vision one last time, I regret it like I have so many times before. Standing near the front of the Scourge's assault, a man in thick metal holds his weapon high. A bright blue, crystalline haze rises from the sharp edges of the weapon.

Hanging there, it appears to chill the air around it. For a second longer it rests in that vertical position before the one-eared man yells, "Mighty heroes of this fine city, your need to fight is over! The King himself has deemed you worthy to bask in his greatness! Hear his call loudly, for it shall be the last voice you ever hear!"

In a flash the blade spines, the tip is now facing downwards. Slamming into the soil, a massive shockwave ripples the ground. The bridge ripples, the ground pulsates, the undead flail wildly, the walls bend at the blasts will, and finally, it comes to me. A dark voice surrounds my being! I can hear it, the voice from before!

_You shall bow to my knee, son of a necromancer! Do not deny what was given to you at birth! Release them, let them back to the Scourge! Obey me! Obey your king!"_

No! My head is on fire! The voice, the voice, make it stop_! You must calm down! He must not let the words confuse him!_ But he speaks of you! _You must ignore him! He is evil, do not trust the false King!_

Yes, you are right. Breath, Hope, breath. Calm yourself. Pulling myself from the apparent fall that I had during that brief moment, I am chilled. The army, our army scream, twists and grabs their heads in agony. Their weapons no longer hold against the Scourge. No, now they rest on the floor

Suddenly, they all stop. As one swift unit, they come to their feet. As one swift unit, they rotate and face away from their enemy. As one swift unit, they turn from their once foes and now…accept them as allies.

He then speaks again, "Minions of the Scourge, go, go into this city and bring the traitors back to their rightful place! Take the Ziggurats; use them to bring the rest of your Forsaken to the Scourge!"

I do not wait to see what happens. There is no need to. Even as I run, I can hear them; the once brave warriors, now mindless as before. I begin to sprint. It is not certain of if I running to make it to the others, or if I am fleeing from the fallen.

All that can be is that I am running.

I soar past broken statues of forgotten men. Vines strangle their past and bury them in obscurity. Moving fast, I head through another archway and into a darkened room. From the large throne in the middle, I am guessing this was where Arthas betrayed his father. Sadly, I do not spend long in the depressing chamber.

Heading to the path on the right, I dart around a corner and into another chamber. In the middle of this room rests a large coffin like item. I do not have time to find out what it is. Instead, I look to the sides of this room. Three corridors run from this area and to what appears to be three different large elevators. I glance down one of the paths and notice two, massive pink monsters. Stitches run across their bodies while three mangled arms stretch in multiple directions.

They notice me and begin lumbering slowly in my direction. I am guessing these creatures were once like the many on the bridge. However, as I turn to the pathway on the left I notice that the two their lie broken. Past them, four figures rest in a large elevator.

The sounds of footsteps echo across these hollowed walls, so hurriedly I depart from this room. Speeding down the corridor, the rumble grows. I shoot into the elevator and give myself a moment to rest. Panting heavily, I scan my vision across Carlin and the Brothers. They lean over Nathanos who holds his head and whimpers. Carlin throws a glance back to me and frowns.

Nathanos then speaks, "The voices…the voices! They are louder than ever; they scream to me!" He takes a deep breath. "So many have fallen to them. I must not! If I do, I will fail the Lady!" Another deep breathe. "Nathanos does not fail his Queen!"

His hand slaps the back of the green and white elevator. Drawing in air, he takes another deep breath into his inoperable, yet functioning lungs. Within seconds he is to his feet. Standing there, his fingers vibrate gently. His arms shift slightly as his fills lungs deeply over and over.

Carlin stands up and nods at the undead. "Good to see you back to your feet already, Nathanos." He scratches his chin. "Even better to see you still have your senses."

Nathanos glares over to him, "I do not know what they did to my people, but the horror of returning to that hell army is something I will not endure again." He looks forward. "I must make it to the Queen, she must know of these atrocities."

The rumbling from behind grows to almost unbearable limits. I shift my gaze back out from the elevator. As I do, I watch as a wall of the damned flow past the coffin. They break into two groups and pile down the two other passage ways. Fortunately for us, they have avoided coming to this certain one.

And the reason why appears. Walking slowly into sight, the Scarred Deathknight takes position in front of the corridor. His eyes instantly lock with mine. Flowing from his chilled sight, I can feel his rage once again.

However, this time, I do not fear it like before. No, no longer does he drive terror into my will. Instead, a smile stretches across my face and raise my hand. Twisting it, my palm now faces upwards. Slowly, I roll my fingers towards me then straighten them again. Come, Scarred fool, I dare you. _You are tough! He is the craziest person I have ever met. _

Slamming shut, the elevator door blocks our connection then slides downwards. Roaring gently, the sides of lift yell as they grind across the dark stone. It only takes seconds for the elevator to reach the floor. Hollering stone yells its agony to us as the massive slab of stone comes to a halt.

The door flinches, slides open, and Nathanos is out. Carlin follows being trailed by the thundering footsteps of the large Mark. Exiting the lift, I let the dull orange and yellow light flicker upon my eyes. Darkness fills the grand vast of this narrow corridor, but the slight illumination is proper guidance.

As I move, I trip slightly as the two fluffy monsters scurry past. I didn't even notice them get on the elevator! Where did they come from?! _You need to take notes on their movement. He needs to develop some observational research for them. _

Focus, Hope, focus! Quickly, I skid to the end of the path. Once there, I let a tidal wave of dull yet pulsating lights wash over my body. Blue, teal, green, yellow, white, all colors of random sparkles that dance from the denizens of this fine city!

Soldiers of dull colors fly up the stairwells to face the advancing Scourge. Purple Banshees glimmer a haze of dark death from the being. Abominations vomit a thick green mist from all their pores as they march.

Shifting from the warriors of this city, I turn to the vast building itself. I stand on a large upper ringer that surrounds a large pillar. Four ramps run downward at a slight arch, but are currently be used for the soldiers to march upwards. Glancing down, the dark gray stone is shadowed by the figure that's flow in all directions, yet all head up. From here, I can just make out anther thick pool of that disgusting green fluid that was the moat; however, this rests on the outer ridge of the lower platform.

Such a marvelous city. If only the circumstances were more suited. Sadly, I must get moving! _You will find the Queen! He will get to see the fine Queen himself!_

Before I can move, someone behind makes a slight whimper. Turning, at first I only see a dark hallway, but then a stumbling Jon fills my sight. He is only feet behind me, but is slumped against the walls in the shadows. For a moment he shakes before he futilely walks towards me. Tripping over his own feet, he falls into me.

My hands wrap around him, and in seconds I help him to the ground. Kneeling beside him, I cradle him the best I can. Depressingly, I have seen this look before. _You know this expression all to well. He is experienced in this design._

Gray, paled skin extends the reach of his face. Purplish lips seem to crack and quiver where they rest. Floating gently from his move a cold mist travels up around the side of my head. His eyes dwarf all these features; his hollowed, almost completed faded eyes.

The lost orbs travel to mine and his lips curl upwards. "Hope, I think the wound was a bit worse than first imagined."


	13. Lost

**-Note-**: Due to a bit of confusion, I made a few changes to the ending of the story. I believe there may have been a misunderstanding about what happened at the very end, so I tried to clarify it more on what was truly supposed to be noticed.

Feel free to review on what may or may not have been wrong.

Thank you, and I hope it did not completely ruin the enjoyment of the story.

Lost

Resting partially on the floor, the upper portion of him is held in my arms. Flinching very slightly, his arm reacts to a sudden surge of unfeeling agony. The same arm lies limply across his chest, just above a nasty wound. A thick black crust has formed around the outer edge, while lines of the same color flow in all directions from the festering cut.

Rocking him gently, I try to calm him while he settles here. I am not sure if it actually does anything to calm his nerves. _You can only hope it does. He can simply pray._

A painless yet agonizing chill creeps from his cool being. Holding him a bit tighter, I try to bring warmth back to the freezing friend. His other arm twitches wildly against my stomach. Shaking for a second, the leather and thin metal loops scratch against my thin cover. All of his movement stops suddenly, but it is followed by a heavy, dry cough.

His body curls to the hacking. Thankfully he manages to control himself. Again his lips quiver, reacting to the recent outburst. He draws in air deeply before gazing over to me. Oddly, the purplish, dry lips on his face spin a tale that he has no place telling, and curl upwards.

Landing on my brown orbs, his eyes lock firmly, "Strange feeling, this is." He coughs weakly, "Never thought I would be embracing it so soon."

I am unable to speak. I cannot say what he is feeling is untrue. It would not be right for me to lie to him about what is going on. _You cannot tell him falsities. He will not give him false hope._

Foolishly, I cannot control myself, "Jon, you should not speak like that. We will get someone here…"

His eyes close and I stop. Opening again he emits a combination of coughs and bursts of laughter before he continues, "Hope, please. You know death when you see it, and who are you kidding?" His eyes glance to the left, up, and back to me, "This city has no time to spare on me. It border's are falling as we speak."

Sighing heavily, he lets out a cracking wave of air. He pauses for a moment to scan the environment again before looking back towards me. "I always wanted to see this city. Err, I mean the Undercity. Such a disgustingly beautiful place."

Unexpectedly the smile vanishes from his face and a swift jerking movement erupts from his leg. I glance down from a moment. His leg shakes back and forth out of what I am guessing could only be fear and anxiety.

Coughing once again, he speaks. "I only wish it could have been under better terms. It would have…"

He stops. Drifting, his eyes sweep back and forth in his skull, but he no longer stares at me. No, his eyes search the unseen memories that are sparking in his head. I can only imagine what he is thinking. _You only dream to know. He always wants to know._

Interrupting me he speaks again. However, this time when he talks his tone has changed to a more lost feel, "I always thought when I was dying, I would see my mother. I would get to see her wonderful face again. But…" Shaking now, his lips attempt to hold back the sound of his sorrow, "But…I cannot see her…"

His leg rocks heavier now, while his arm flinches again, "All that there is now….is a dark voice. A dark voice….

He twitches violently, "All I can see is him!"

Rolling his entire head to face me, I watch as a lone silver streak departs the dulled orb that was its home. Slowly darting across the paled flesh, the lone drop comes to the edge of his cheek. Dangling there, it clings to the place it once called its lively abode. Then, as if saying farewell to all it was, it falls open my leg.

Jon speaks again, "I don't want to be part of the Scourge, Hope! No!"

Rocking him, I try to relax his tension away again, but he just continues to stare me. "Don't let them take me! Get them away! Get…remove…Hope…"

Shaking lightly now, he cries to me, "Don't…let…them." There is a pause. "Please…destroy…me."

He continues to stare at me. But he no longer shakes. His leg has stopped moving and his lips no longer quiver. But he continues to move. Why? How? _You are moving. He…is shaking now._

Warm lines form across my face, and a deep chill fills my being. My arms have grown numb from holding him, but I don't want to let go. I have held dozens of people while they traveled to the nether, but never before have I felt this way. I don't want to have to bury him! Only once did I bury someone I loved, but never like this. I don't want to bury him.

You will not have to. He does not have time to. You must get going. He must get moving. You are running out of time. They are coming; he cannot stand in their path.

For just a second longer I hold him, letting his empty eyes cry the shrill screech of death, I cannot help but draw my arms from him. Cracking the locked bones, I slide him from me and lie him upon the equally as cold floor. Slowly, I come to my feet, but never do I look away.

Once upright, I continue to gaze down at him. I do not want to leave him here, nor do I want to bury him. So confused, but I must get going. I must leave, hero of the Argent Dawn; brother of Mark Chapel. I must leave, Jon. I am sorry.

I cannot look away. My senseless feet drag across the stone floor. Slowly I move, but I just do not have the power to draw my vision from his body. Suddenly the terrain shifts, and a downward pull drags me. _You are on the ramp. He must gather himself._

Tensing, the muscles on my leg willingly force the unwilling from what I desire. Sadly, no matter how hard I try, I cannot stop. Creeping out of sight, the man begins to vanish into the angle of view. Then, with another long, grueling step, he is gone. As if he never even existed, he is gone.

Sounds bounce of the circular room as I stand here. First, screeching stone yells the incoming of large elevators. Then, shouts of soldiers reverberate off the walls.

"Hold your lines, Forsaken! Hold your lines!" A brave undead warrior braces the passageway for the inevitable.

"This is our city!" Another voice booms from another corridor. "This is our home! Let them be treated like proper guests! Show them our swords and spears!"

Their words motivate me slightly, but the next one grabs me firmly, "Worm! Why do we always find you a step behind?"

Peering down, Nathanos waits at the lowest floor of this room, next a large, dusty bridge that crosses over the water I noticed earlier. I scan the environment for a moment as I pass the center pillar and sprint down another ramp. Finally coming to his level, I notice that there are actually four of these bridges; each one leading off in a northwestern, southwestern, northeastern and southeastern direction.

Before I even get to his location, he shouts again. "Not much further, Worm, not much further!"

My feet slap against the partially slippery floor as I finally leave the second slopped path. Peering over to Nathanos, he waits at the bottom of the ramp just a few feet from me, while Carlin and Mark stand upon the bridge heading south.

He peers at me then over to something behind. After a second he twists his head to look upwards before glaring back at me, "Worm, where is Jon? Did you misplace him on accident?"

I am no unable to move. My mouth is locked shut. Screams inside my head attempt to wedge their way out, but the sealed passageway give them no escape. Nathanos' eyes narrow on me, "Well?"

Beating rapidly beneath the chilled containers of bone the muscle in my chest dances wildly. Sadly, I am still unable to speak.

"Hope, what is the matter with you? Tell Jon to hurry up!" Carlin yells while he steps off the opposite side of the ramp and begins heading into an arched entrance.

Suddenly, I feel the barriers that are my lips release, and the trapped tongue whips out, "I cannot do that."

Carlin stops in his tracks. Turning to me, he throws me a cock-eyed expression then speaks, "What is that supposed to mean?" He smiles, "You are the master of encouragement!"

My eyes drift down. They sweep across the filthy floor beneath my feet. Large, black cockroaches wriggle through dense fluid. A few lay dead, trapped in the water they apparently try to avoid. Dead. It reminds me. I must focus. _You need to tell them. He cannot hide this from them. _

Instantly I jerk my head upwards. I do not hesitate in speaking this time, "Carlin." Sadly I pause while I force back the tears, "Jon is dead."

The smile on his face vanishes. His lips curl downwards. Brown orbs of despair dance with mine in hopes of finding some falsity in the eyes that gaze back at him. But he will get no such luck.

From the side, I hear Nathanos speak quietly, "A man of valor. He fought beside us, and most definitely died bravely."

But it is not his words that have my attention. Slowly, and most likely involuntarily, a large man creeps across a small bridge. Quivering lips flicker quickly on his face. Sorrowed eyes search mine as Carlin's had. But, unfortunately, like the elderly man before him, he will get no answers he likes.

His weapon slides down his side, while the once tall shield rests limply at his side. He continues to stare at me. Every passing moment I can feel the grief in his heart, and it depresses me. There is nothing I can do for him. There is nothing I can do. It was his brother that fell, and all the words in the world cannot save him from what occurred.

I can give him spirit and I can give him strength, but I am not a god. There is nothing I can do to fill the hole that was just torn in him. There is nothing…

Suddenly, a rush of air smashes against me. It entangles my being, and rips my vision and mind from the tall Mark. Surging through my head, I can feel the pain from before! I can feel it! With it comes the voice! That horrible voice!

_Return them to me! Return them to their king! It is your destiny! Obey!_

Digging at my scalp, my fingers try to dislodge the sound from my skull. It slowly dissipates from my head. As I rest near the large pool of sludge, the dark voice departs my head again.

But, suddenly, another fills the void, "Mark, get out of the way!"

Shifting my head back to the grieving warrior, Carlin grabs a hold of him and quickly jerks him back over the bridge. Unwillingly the man stumbles backwards. He glances back at this friend exactly when a massive figure appears in sight. Tumbling from overhead, a pink mess of stitches and green mist falls straight down.

_CARASH_

The stone path gives way. Gray and black blocks shoot in every direction; each one being trailing by a thick gray powder trail. A surge of fluid rushes upwards as the pressure from the falling corpse collides with it. The sickening water splashes against the splinters of the sundered path. Tidal waves ripple with great speed through the bending paths as the mess settles.

Finally the blob comes to stop and my vision darts to the two resting near the broken bridge. Carlin gives Mark a few slaps while the giant sighs. The elderly man then gazes over to us and shrugs.

However, before he can speak, a violent torrent of voices rumble all around. I look up instantly. Undead soldiers run around the loop in mindless confusion. Living blobs march in a confused manner back and forth while packs of skeletons and ghouls float between their movements.

A dark figure emerges on a ramp from the mess of sightless warriors. The scars on his face bear my mark, and the pale eyes in his skull fill his mind with my presence. Rising into the air, the blade points in my direction.

Twisting upon his damned face his lips form a curve of death, "Soldiers, your enemies rest below us!" Instantly the army stops, shifts, and gazes in our direction, "Show them the wrong of their flight! Let them feel the might of the Scourge."

The soldiers are no longer sightless. They no longer stumble aimlessly in all directions. Now their feet echo against the hollowed falls. Each step screams our names. Each step cries for our death.

Nathanos barks loudly at me, "Worm, I do believe this is our cue to flee."

I follow his advice perfectly. My feet slap the firm stone. They bear the weight of my body each quick step. Even bracing the slippery surface as they glide across the arching bridge. The sound radiates from them echoes across the halls of this invaded city. They call to the defenders to tell of an advance and cry to the attackers to advise them of our flight.

Strangely, and rather unexpectedly, the shouts of our footsteps as we round into a "T" sort of intersection, catch the ears of others. Voices yell in our direction, but Nathanos pays no attention. The man rounds to the right and moves quickly. I, however, peer to my left and attempt to see what is yelling to us. As I stare, I quickly realize it is not us they are yelling at.

Standing amongst the tanned and darkened walls, tall, green figures brace a torrent of skinny enemies. They wield massive weapons that, with each swing, almost vaporize the weak warriors that dare challenge their might. Quite a spectacle of might these creatures show. I have seen these…orcs…before, but most were ready and waiting for their grave. Remarkable. _You seem rather impressed by these ugly things. He better be, their arms are bigger than his torso!_

Even the sheer amount of undead bodies cannot break the surge that which is their strength. However, as I watch the barrage of rage, I notice a lone Forsaken warrior stumble from the crowd. Somehow he bursts from behind the Scourge swarm and darts past the orcs. His hands are cupped firmly upon the sides of his head. Staggering side to side he slams against a wall and screams.

Reaching for a silver, long blade at his side, he takes it in his hand and yells, "They have taken the war quarter! From the sewer. From the sewer!" His free hand grips his skull harder, "He screams to me! I must obey!"

Suddenly, he spins the blade forcing the tip towards him, "I will never go back!"

Thrusting the sword, he splinters his chest. Falling to his knees, he lets go of himself. He tilts his head up and emits a strange laughing sound, "No more voices…"

His body leans forward then collapses upon the ground. How could he kill himself? How could anything be that horrific? There was still hope. He just needed to try and find it. _You do not know serving him. He knows nothing of the nightmare that is the Scourge._

For a moment longer I continue stare at the overwhelmed orcs and the depressing undead near the wall. The sight dulls even my senses. Then Nathanos yells to me, "Worm, get you're feet into gear! We do not have time for your mindless wanderings!"

It takes a moment for me to get moving, but once again, I find myself moving quickly through this city's many passageways. Nathanos swings through a large opening that leads us even further out from the first room we walked into.

We enter another corridor, but it is short, and after a moment we enter another ring like area. Again there is a giant green river, but this one is in the middle of the passage. It separates two paths, and is covered by multiple bridges of various sizes and shapes. Most of these said bridges glow a bright green from the river below. Actually, much of this room is illuminated by whatever pulsates in that sludge, and that which isn't lit, is left in a dark, ominous shadow.

Unfortunately I am not given much time to examine the city. Like before, Nathanos heads right and down the clockwise path of this clockwork-designed city. I, however, cannot help but glance left again.

Sadly this time I regret peering in that direction. I watch in horror as swarms of white, red, and gray monsters of death pile fiercely across one of the bridges. Some stumble off and fall into the thick fluid below. Others ram their blades through the enemies that dare stop their advance. One, a short figure wearing that infamous black and bluish armor, approaches a large structure.

Standing before it, he raises his sword. Bursting forth a beam of blue and white energy swirls in a dancing manner towards what appears to be a dark green object. However, when this said beam collides with it, the object bursts into life. Instantly it begins to glow.

The glow from the crystal intensifies. A bright, almost pure, light begins to penetrate from its core. It begins to lift from its platform. The air around it ripples and waves as the energy is poured into it. I do not have any idea what is happening. _You do not want to know. He must get away from it immediately!_

Before I can even react to the voices, a change takes place in the bright object. It is as if the tainted very center of the crystal dulls and darkens. Then there is silence. For just a single, fainting moment, there is complete and utter silence.

Exploding unexpectedly, a wall of surged wind erupts from the giant gem. Walls bend to the air's will. Creatures bow, fall, and come to knee as it wafts over them. Thick fluids gush from the river as a tide of sludge tumbles towards me. There is no time for me to run.

Rushing around me, the air absorbs my existence. It drives deep into my skull, burns the flesh, and drags me backwards. All of the physical identities of this wave are insignificant in comparison to the mental additions that come with it.

_Do not dare to flee, boy! Cease from your clueless escape, there is no sanctuary! My words shall bend you and mold you to my will! Now, do as I say! Return my minions to me! Return them to their rightful king! You shall heed my command, son of my necromancer!_

It screams to me! He speaks to my soul! I cannot control myself! It is as if I move without any reason or any direction! _You must fight his false claims! He does not own us! You are the one we serve! He must ignore him!_

What? I do not understand?! I am so confused! What is happening? Are you what he speaks of? _You do not understand! He must listen only to us!_ But you are his! He said you were! _You must ignore him! He must focus on Nathanos!_

Nathanos! Slowly, I take control of my body. They are right. Even if they may serve him, they are right. I must not lose control. There will be no surrender! I am better than that! Turning, I begin looking for Nathanos. Keep moving! _You must keep fighting! He will keep going!_

My heart sinks. Slumped against the inner wall, Nathanos grips the sides of his head once again. This time, however, two furry creatures stand near him. Of course, I am not sure where they came from, but I have gotten used to their stealth capabilities.

I do not waste any time. Rushing over to him, I kneel beside him and his companions and at first only watch. His eyes are closed, and his lips move slightly. From this position I can barely make out what appears to be his voice; he is apparently talking to himself or his pooches here.

Just gently he rocks back and forth. His left shoulder brushes smoothly across the dark, stone surface and emits a quiet rustling sound while it does. From the corner of my eye, I can see Watcher wriggling oddly and peering at Nathanos intently. Its mouth creeps open a bit. Taking a step back then forward it raises its ears and its mouth opens wider.

_BARK_

The high pitched wail pierces my eardrums, and from the instantaneous stopping of Nathanos' rocking, I can tell he heard it loudly as well.

_BARK_

Just as loudly the other pup takes a shot at the incapacitated master. This time his eyes open. The darkened orbs show a bit of confusion and the average blind rage. Drifting to his pup and then other to me, they seem to notice their surroundings. He leans to the side a bit and then narrows his vision.

Lowering, his mouth begins to move, "Why are we not running, Worm?"

I cannot help but throw him an expression of delight, "Because you decided to take a break."

Lifting himself upwards, he peers down to me, "Nathanos Marris does not take breaks, Worm. He suddenly departs from the original in hopes to find excitement."

I am not sure what he means, but I extend to my full height, nod, and then smile, "How does running sound for your excitement?"

Turning, he glances back to me and chuckles, "Worm, that sounds perfect."

Taking off at a new found speed, he and his pups get to moving. For a moment I hesitate to let the sounds of screams and rumbling footsteps take over my mind. They gain in strength every second I stand here, but slowly become overwhelmed by the grunts and calls of their own voices.

I do not bother looking to see what or how many are coming. There is no need, I have already seen their armies. _You know there are tons. He knows they will catch him soon. _ Indeed.

Once again I am back to the marathon that is escape. Nathanos arches around a large, bending corner and soon so do I. He keeps a constant distance on me, but he cannot lose me. Coming to another straight away, I cannot help but notice a large, stone structure in my vision. Like the one earlier, it has a large, faded gem resting amongst its pillars. This is where they are headed. _You are correct. He has deciphered that well._

From ahead, Nathanos yells back to me as he passes what appears to be another passage to the inner rings, "Almost there, Worm!" He points forward. "There, over that bridge! There the Lady waits for…"

As if it was cued, a massive, pink blob emerges from the path of which Nathanos just sprinted past. From this position I can make out the fine stitches that run in all directions across its body. The massive gray bones jut out ahead of its torn belly in attempts to hold back the sea of purple and red organs that try to pile out.

Its tiny legs brace the huge girth of the disgusting fiend. Broken and twisted its mouth hangs open while its misshapen eyes puke a thin, transparent fluid that feeds his own filth. Jerking backwards, its left arm comes to a full swing behind him. Quickly, it flies forward aiming for the unprepared undead.

The air dances across the bloodied blade. Time slows to let every second of the incoming destruction sink in. Passing its body, it comes to its target. However, one is not ready for the path decided by this abomination.

Leaping up, its teeth sink deep into the nasty arm. Claws rip furiously at the pink flesh, turning it red in seconds. Furry mingles with the stitches as they appear to become one. Reacting to its addition, the creature yelps loudly and shakes its arm. The dog holds tight, and this does nothing but tear more of his arm.

Spinning, he continues to shake violently, but the dog will not let go. Then with one swift swipe, he swings his arm outwards, slamming the fur and limb into the corner of the passageway. Falling from its position, the fluffy creature glides to the floor and slams hard.

My vision scans to the blob that now faces me. The stitches outlining its mouth stretch and move in attempts to smile. _Thudthudthudthud, _an array of dull slapping sounds fills the air. The smile has been removed from the vile monstrosity's face. Jerking back and forth, he appears to do so unwillingly.

He spins so that his stomach faces the entrance way and his back is towards the sludge. It is then I notice the many sticks that pierce his thick skin. At least half a dozen fine arrows riddle its body, and they force the creature to stumble backwards. It stops at the edge of the river and leans forward.

Nathanos makes his way close to the creature. Coming within a few feet, he looks straight into the blob's eyes. For a brief second they stare at each other. I am not sure what they see in each other, but from Nathanos' reaction, I think the undead feels the blob is missing something.

Lifting his bow, he pulls an arrow forward, stretches the string, and at point-blank range, shoots it straight in the face. Before the body can react he does it two more times and then steps back. It tumbles backwards, slaps against the stone and then slowly glides into the water.

He spits to the ground where the creature was then turns around. Glaring at me for a second, he shifts to the dog near the wall and barks, "Come, boy, let us go."

There is no response from the creature. It lies calmly upon the ground. Sadly, the noise and echoes from behind grow. I turn for a moment and catch sight of the army of the damned marching towards the tower. We are out of time.

The few guards of all races stand and wait for their fight. The few guards wait from their impending doom. We do not, however. No, we stand here, below a large archway next to a filthy moat.

Again Nathanos yells, "Boy, do not disobey your master!"

His voice is almost unheard behind the swarm that collides into the tower. The warriors defend bravely, but there is no hope. _You know they will fail. He can already see the deathknight moving into position._

I notice Nathanos pull a large, bleached white object from his pocket and shake it violently before speaking, "Come when I call you, boy!"

Skeletons break to in mass numbers as they siege the tower. Brave heroes fall to their knees and accept their fate. Warriors clash against death. All while a lone figure walks before the front of the tower. Raising his sword, this new being lets forth a beam of energy.

Whimpers come from behind, and I turn to Nathanos once again. He kneels besides the pup and emits strange sounds unlike anything I have heard before from him. I am saddened by the sight. Nathanos has never acted this way before. _You must get him up! He must get away from the tower! _

Too late.

I do not have a moment to even react. The air dances upon my mind again. This time is different. It sinks into my very eyes. A thick, gray haze shrouds the borders of reality, while black streaks break the clarity of my eyes. A dense, white fog takes hold of my vision and only one thing remains in the midst of the confusion. I can feel my knees slam against the cold floor, but he…he is all that remains.

Him.

His dark armor drapes over a large body. The air itself freezes in the presence of his darkness. A massive sword digs into the almost invisible ground below him.

Blue glows from his sinister eyes; the very same eyes peer down at me and burn my soul.

He opens his mouth, letting a surge of blue flames lick out from his core, "Hope, return to me what is rightfully mine."

Extending his hand towards me, he motions to go to him,

His voice breaks loudly again, "You will be protected under my guidance. You will be part of the mighty Scourge! Thousands of warriors will march to your call!"

Letting go of his sword with one hand, he uses the newly freed limb to sweep in an arch in front of him, "This city was overwhelmed in a matter of hours, no, minutes! Its very defenders returned to the Scourge from whence they came! Even the few fools that dare futilely stand against us will soon find themselves amongst our ranks."

His vision darts back to me, "Son of Nathaniel, son of a necromancer to match that of Kel Thuzad himself, follow those before you and those who parented you. Obey me. Return that which is mine."

Yes, yes, I shall.

_No, Hope, keep hold of yourself! He must not listen to the lies! _You are his, and you must be handed back. _You have to focus! He must not let his wandering mind fall for the false king's traps! You must wake up! He must remember your friends! _I must remember everyone. They need me. But you must be returned.

The king tells me so. _You are blinded, you fool! He would never fall, just like Nathanos never _shall! Nathanos…he would not fall. He would be ashamed of me. _You must get back your senses. He must fight! _Yes, return to my senses! Fight.

Slowly, the haze begins to drift. The silver boundaries and black streaks fade. Disappearing, the king himself ceases and instead is taken place by a slumped figure beside a furry companion. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, for the sound of failure to cry to me, and the smell of this rank place to ruin my nostrils.

Once all of the acquired senses have rightfully adjusted, I reach over to my friend and give me a shake, "Come, Nathanos, your Queen awaits."

He doesn't respond. I stand tall and take a few steps back to motivate him, "Nathanos, we shall avenge the pup! But first the Queen."

Again, nothing. A chill explodes in the middle of my back, spreads wildly through my shoulders and strangles the sides of my neck. Ice pumps wildly through my veins, numbing all the reaches of my limbs. I am not sure where this feeling truly came from, but it consumes my being.

Shaking my body in attempts to remove the inner chill, I yell to him another time, "Marris, get to…"

His head jerks up and the back of his shakes a bit, "Do not call me by that name, fool."

What? What does he mean? _You…must…he must leave._

Quickly, Nathanos comes to his feet. Slumped forward, he continues to stand facing away from me. He breathes in heavily and then speaks, "My name is Nathanos Blightcaller."

He begins turning to me, and while he does he continues, "It was the name I choose when I left the Scourge."

Completely facing me, his dull eyes stare into mine. His posture is unfamiliar and lacking all signs of confidence he usually shows This…this isn't Nathanos. _You must get away! He will get away from him!_

Unexpectedly, he reaches down, pulls his axes to the read and speaks, "And it shall be mine when I return."

What?!

Stepping forward, he focuses on me, letting the lifeless orbs gaze at yet through me "I serve the master. I serve the one, true king!"

No! No! No! _You have no time! He will be struck down! You will move immediately! He will not stand here any longer!_

My legs move unwillingly. I spin, turning away from the fallen friend. The world seems slow, yet incredibly fast. I dart past dark walls, spring past fallen bodies, and fly past an arching pathway. It is as if I have control over myself, even though I know I move this way on my own accord.

While I move, his words ravage my mind. All I can think about is that last line and those empty eyes. How…how did he fall? It is not possible….if he can fail…we all can. _You mustn't talk that way. He is the one of limitless hope! _

Ahead I can see the bridge clearly, and across it I see a large, mossy-colored gate. Two guards brace the walls, while a few scrambling others enter past them. However, the two figures running down a different path are what I manage to focus on through the confusion.

Carlin and Mark rush through a path that Nathanos did not speak of. Do they know something I don't? Are they abandoning me as well?! I can feel my heart racing. My body is uncontrollable. Thoughts rush through my corridors of my mind, crashing and jamming all narrow passageways! This cannot be happening. _You know they will not abandon you. He will continue on to the Queen._

Over the bridge in a second, I fly, land on the surface and dart into the long, narrow passage. The few flickering lanterns reach their fingers across the walls in attempts to escape the fate of the city. Dark walls cry to their inevitable defeat. I bend around a corner, passing bodies of calling warriors who lost their spirit to the voices.

The world feels light. Coming to the end of the bend, I see a bright light ahead. It sways and moves almost as if it calls for me. But I now there is no room for such nonsense. There is no room for foolish thoughts of motivation. There is simply now. There is simply the reality of it all.

Rushing into the large chamber, the light dulls. Dozens of Forsaken gather around a tall platform in the center of the room. A tall, purplish figure clad in thick, dark maroon armor stands. Curling black horns rise from his head while brownish patches of hair flow from the sides of his face. Massive claws shift back and forth while he tries to gather the hopeless masses. He is rather tall and obviously not a species I know of.

Standing near him, a…rather attractive woman waves to the horrified people below. Long, whitish hair flows from under her brown hood. At her side rests a bow of fine detail and craftsmanship. However, her glowing, gorgeous red eyes dwarf them all. They penetrate deep into the ones she focuses on, and even as I stare into them, I feel a bit of hope that I seem to have lost.

But there is no hope. There is nothing! They have taken everything, and I could do nothing to stop them. Entering the city, they destroyed in minutes what took years to create. Chaos reigns supreme. I was such a fool to believe this world could be saved.

_You must not talk like…_

What do you know?! You serve the dark king! You are one of his, you just used me to bring you to this end! I feel my back hit a wall. Pressure builds in the corner of my eyes. You simply wait for the time to return to him! _You know nothing! He makes accusations of ridiculous proportions!_

I slide down the wall, curling against the frozen, light less barrier. All around me cries of misery and agony dull all the fiery that once glowed so brightly in me.

Wait, glow, yes, maybe! Maybe, maybe. I reach to my side, pull the oddly warm flask from my side, and pull it to my front.

Rocking it, I let the glow fill my mind with thoughts of this city. These thoughts drive me back to sorrow, and force the warm trails of salty sadness down the sides of cheeks.

I feel nothing.

I have no hope left in me. Nathanos was wrong; my spirit is as limited as his current devotion to his Queen. _You know he is still devoted to his Queen. He feels even as Scourge Nathanos wants to serve her. Like you want to serve your friends. Like you want to save them._

But I cannot. I have nothing.

_Your words fall short of those who still speak to you._

What?

_You have us._

Of course…

_You must release us, release me._

No! All you will do is return to him!

_You must trust us. You must trust me. Release me, Hope. You and I shall end this together._

I cannot, you lie! My chest rattles. My arms shake. I do not know what to do. Focus, Hope, focus. Breathe.

_You will release us_.

No! You…lie…you…

_You will._

But…how?

_You must clear your head; empty if of thought._

That is impossible! My mind is never empty! It is a torrent of confusion and traffic!

_You must relax; focus on the water._

Staring forward, my gray eyes reflect back at me. Strands of matted hair rest on my face while sweat and tears clutter all edges of my pink skin. It is been a long time since I have looked at myself. It is as if I see everything yet nothing.

Nothing.

Suddenly, a jerk of pain ripples down my arm. The flask falls from my hands, clanking but not breaking on the floor. I pull myself to my knees and attempt to clutch the throbbing. Jerking to the side, I have no control! My shovel and gun slide from my arms.

My eyes drift to the surging pain. Fingers bend inward from tension and pain. It is as if my skin is moving from my very bone! Before my very eyes, I can see a change. The flesh on my fingers darkens. A thick, brown matter covers every inch and hardens instantly. Down my forearm tiny bulges appear at multiple spots.

Exploding from my very flesh, matter emerges from the disgusting bulges in a spectacle of horror! Spikes rip down my arm! They tear my shirt and extend outward in all directions.

Uncontrollably, I jerk backwards. Throbs of pain rush through my shoulder blades. Two growing spots feel as if they are bursting! The skin rips, I can feel it! It feels as if something is crawling out of my own back!

What is this?! Peering up, two, horrific arms clank wildly in the air. They are not mine yet they come from me! Three bladed fingers are all they each own, while their hairy, twisting joints move raggedly and swiftly.

What is happening to me?!

_You have…cleared your mind._

What is happening?!

_You will behold, Hope Blackwood, the power of my people! Embrace it! Let it fill your heart with rage and drive your body to strength never imagined. Even now your muscles, your entire body, takes form of what I once was! __You may use what my spirit can provide! __Use what I lost so long ago! Use the form I once called my own!  
_

_He must take what given and use it! He must use the other voice's power to his advantage!_

All of it true! My entire body! I can feel the pain and shifting, the ripping and tearing. I…I…I can feel the power!

_You must use it, Hope, use it! Take what has been given to you and seek vengeance! Fate has intertwined our paths, and upon this day, we shall emerge from the confusion victorious!_

_Together, the Scourge will bend to breaking! Today, You must bring them terror! Today, You must end their power! Today, You must show them the light!_

_Today…you must make them remember your name!_


	14. Rebirth

Rebirth

Creeping across the dusty floor, my nails dig into the fine stone. Gray streaks form behind the brownish-white files. Screeching fills the air as the ground responds to the defilement with wails of agony. Even though my eyes gaze upon the gnawing bone, I am not certain if it is truly the stone making the cries, or if it is I.

Any cries that do become actuality from this event are more from the sight and not from true pain. I peer down at the still flask upon the stone, I take sight of what I am becoming; something new and less of what I was.

Once smooth, squishy flesh now becomes that of the unimagined. It continues to change to the brownish tint described earlier, but it is not the color that truly bothers me. No, what truly chills my bone is the sheer fact that as it changes, so does my entire sensory system. Everything that occurs does so almost numbly now.

I gaze in horror as the once white orbs planted firmly in my skull begin to darken. Filling in at all boundaries, a blackish haze absorbs their bright color and turns them to black. However, despite the visible color, I can still see clearly, even better maybe.

My eyes then focus more effectively at the change happening on my face. The skin on my forehand fades to the brown, and suddenly begins to extend outwards. Sounds of bones cracking destroy all other noises that dare try to enter my mind.

Shifting to a dull point, the protrusion slowly comes to a rest. The spectacle that just grew from my head resembles that of a horn. Sadly, the stiffing, numb change creeps past that lone area and stretches across my entire head. The hair pulls awkwardly back into my scalp, while sheets of thick armor appear to form all around the borders that define my head.

As these layers grow down my head like firm hats, my nose takes to movement I never thought possible. Drawing out of my natural vision, the rounded object collapses and fades into nonexistence. Just below it, the skin around my lips hardens, while two, tiny flexible spikes break near the corners. Slowly jutting outward, the pincer-liker items click together like the Nerubian I killed so long ago in Darrowshire.

The sight of this is horrendous. I cannot take my…odd eyes off of what I have become. Even as the water flickers gently at the borders of the glass, I can see the shapes and movement of my new additions. Above me, I watch as my new limbs grab at the air wildly, despite my ability to control them. The disgusting hair floats from the thin, twisted arms and runs to my back.

Once my eyes firmly adjust upon my torso, I notice the clothing I wear is ripped, but still firmly attached to my being. Shorter spikes than the ones on my armor run down my stomach. However, from the water's reflection, I can tell larger, thicker spines rise out from my back in all directions. This…this…just doesn't seem possible.

Normally, I would feel some sort of relentless anguish from this recent occurrence, but the lack of all feeling simply places my thoughts in a maelstrom of confusion. I have no idea what just occurred, how it was even possible. Even as the movement across my body fades, I still wonder about all of it. Am I dead? Did I just lose what I was? I am gone? Did I just do what the Lich King desired?

_No, you are still yourself, Hope! _You, it is you that did that! What have you turned me into? Look! I am no longer a man, but…but…some sort of insect! _You insult, Hope! You dare speak of the Nerubian warriors as insects? Blasphemy! _

But, my appearance is…I don't even know! _You now wield the fine exoskeleton of my former self!_ Why did you cover me in all the armor? Why the array of spikes on my arms, back…and this…this spike on my forehead? _You hold no spike; that is the crowning symbol of the elite! You hold the horn of the closest followers of Anub'arak! You must take pride in what you were given. You…_

It cuts off mid-sentence. What do you mean? What do you speak of? Where did you go? You cannot leave me here like this? What am I supposed to do? There is no reply. There is nothing. Have you left me…

_You must take pride, young Hope. You must use what my faded form to vanquish those who dear take from you_. But the King said you were his. How do I know you did is for the better? _You must hear what I say! You have had plenty taken from you, all in his name! You are even told to give up what makes you, you! _

But…

Suddenly, a cry from my side takes my focus, "They break into this very chamber! Our brothers turn against us!" There is a pause, "Save us, Lady, save us!"

They are coming. We cannot stop them. They will take everything…

_That is where I differ, Hope. You have lost so much, and all I do now, is give. Give you the strength to fight. You must go, Hope, no more questioning that which gives. Go, stop those who dare take from you!_

Yes. Yes! You have given to me oddities, yet I can feel the power. Even as I begin to stand, my body feels a surge of lightness. As I shift my legs, I feel a barrage of speed never felt before. My eyes themselves lock on movement with such precision.

Yes, you tell the truth. You speak the truth, my friend. _Now go!_

My feet shift upon the ground. Sounds of stones cracking fill the air, but I pay no attention. Almost without effort my body leaps forward. My armor creeks quietly while the claws dance gently across the hard floor. Almost instantly I come to the door, and if fate itself deemed me ready for testing, a white figure emerges from the corridor.

As it appears, cries of horror and shouts of failure fill the air. However, those cries know nothing of what just occurred. Fortunately for them, their ignorance will be their luck. Effortlessly, my arm shoots backwards then equally as swiftly flies forward. Crashing through its ribcage, my fingers wrap around the skeletons spine and take control of the defeated foe.

Leaping to block the passage, I turn, and thrust the limb form forward. Smashing and destroying another boney weakling, I spin my arm to the side, let go of the shattered body and let it slam into another. Shifting overhead, the spiky hands rip viciously at anything that comes in their path. The muscles tense and quickly pull the smaller limbs backward. Rapidly the fine tendrils beneath the armor release, letting them fly forward. It takes seconds for the action to occur, but oh, the sight. The blades crunch bone with ease and rip flesh even easier. Over and over the event occurs, and over and over, bodies fall.

These fools will never pass!

Whipping both my arms back, I gain a burst of strength. I fling them forward and let the hands come together upon a ghoul's head. Smashing beneath the thick armor, the bone crunches while flesh oozes out in any direction it can.

Letting go of the defeated, I fling one arm into the skull of another ghoul, ripping flesh and bone with minimal effort. This happens all while the fluttering limbs from my back lay waste to dozens. Again, my eyes drift to them, and I am almost in awe as they dance perfectly around each other. Beautiful.

_You use my form almost as wonderfully as I once did! It brings my torn spirit joy to see these weak fools fall to the might of the deserving! But must not stand there! _

_No, he must take joy in what was given! _

_You must listen, the second voice tells the truth! You must rejoice!_

_Yes, he must hear me! He will take what this one has given you! He will take it and show the world_

_You must cry loud, Hope, cry loud! You must let all know of your existence!!_

There is no hesitation. Arching my back, I lift my head to the sky, throw my arms to the side, and fling my mouth wide open. Bursting from my chest, a deep, horrifying sound rumbles louder than anything I have heard before. It echoes across this large, round chamber and bounces through the long corridor. There are no other noises to match that which comes from me. There are no other sounds that counter that which rings loudly. There is only me.

Only my battle cry.

The enemy ahead stops in its tracks; confused by the roar that is mine. Behind, a flood of silent mumbles are muted by the might that comes forth. Even as I come to a stop, I can feel all the eyes, all the focus, and the entire world brace upon me. May the warriors who stand beside me take in the strength needed to fight, and may those who dare stand before me absorb all the terror they rightfully deserve.

As I come back to reality, my head shifts back into position and my body locks back into a battle stance. While I rest here for this brief moment, I notice that I am not even winded by the mighty roar; actually, I do not feel as if I am breathing at all. No, it is as if my entity draws in air from all around, as if I build momentum from merely existing.

Such strength. Such power. _You will use it! He will destroy his enemies, he will take back what is his! You will take it all back!_

Suddenly, a new, sweet yet commanding voice echoes upon the walls and rains gently on my armored skin, "What…who…what are you?"

I do not need to turn. I am guessing the Lady is the one that speaks to me; such a wonderful voice. And she even speaks to me! _You are spoken to! He was asked a question. You know what you must do!_ I shall answer her with the strength! _You will answer her with my words!_

Reeling forward, my claws sink deep into unprepared zombie. Tearing it apart, I turn its limbs into weapons. Quickly I drive a torn arm through the skull of a skeleton. While I do, I feel my mouth open, and deep, crackling words erupt from my throat.

"My lady, I was once the servant of a cowardly king!"

Removing the limb, I strike again, and once again, I speak, "I am the remnants of a story never told!"

Sweeping to the side, my other arm maims a victim before I continue, "I am courage reborn! I am the last of what drives men to the light!"

Extending all weapons, all limbs, all spiny destroyers forward, I vaporize an entire wall of monsters ahead of me. Then, stepping backwards, my brace my legs firmly and bellow confidently, "I…am…Hope!"

Then, leaping forward, I exit the room and enter the passage of death. Muscles burn vigorously. Air whips across my body, yet only my eyes can even begin to feel the sensation that is brings. Soaring forward, I slam into the upper portion of the wall before I lunge again, aiming for the second narrow archway that is in this annoyingly designed hall. _You go forward with power! He heads to return the possessions of his life back to him!_

I miss short of the passage, almost in reach of the whipping, gnawing, and thrashing arms below, but arms do not let me fall. Swinging through the door, I can feel stones bouncing from my body. Letting go, I feel weightless again. For a brief moment, I feel as light as a feather. Then, for a third time, I grab part of the passage, leap forward, and exit through another pass.

I repeat again and again, dodging the enemy below, yet drawing their entire attention to my presence. Finally, I see the exit ahead. Finally, my body flies to the being of their end. Finally, I will begin the destruction of these monstrosities.

Grabbing the lower portion of the arch of this final door, I swing for a last time, and let myself fly. Below I can see the green fluid glowing brightly. It illuminates the vast portion of the floor resting beneath. The fluid even brings light to the blob that rests directly in my path.

Its three arms ready themselves for attack. The way he stands there it seems as if he was told and even prepared for my arrival. Mistakenly, however, this fool has no plan in its strategy to deal with my unyielding strength!

Floating downwards, I straighten my arms, while I pull my legs inward. Standing firmly, the idiotic mass of mush and disgust waits foolishly. In a quick moment I am upon him, and thankfully I am the first to react.

Shooting my legs forward, I slam my thick, clawed feet into the monster's chest. Pulling my body forward, I ram my claws into his rather squishy head, and very acrobatically, I remove my feet from him, drag them into the air, and commence to jump in a vertically spinning fashion.

Gaining control of my movement, I realign myself mid-air and crash hard into another wall; this one is part of the inner walls of this section. As I land, I hear a dull thud of something slapping against stone. I wonder what that was. _You can only imagine_.

I take a brief second to twist my head to the side and take in the environment. Sadly, I this moment is definitely brief.

I leap again, but this time is for avoidance. Aiming for a large pillar, I dodge what appears to be a sonic burst from a rather annoying, winged creature. Ripples of greenish air spiral fiercely at the spot where I once was.

_CARASH_

Stone falls from the impact spot, but it was way off of where I currently am. _You are far too quick for that gargoyle. He will not be beaten by such an insignificant speck! _Of course not!

My claws suddenly slam into the stone column. The stone screeches in agony as my nails dig deeply through the soft rock. Using the structure's design to my advantage, I spin around the corner of the pillar and then let go. Flying once again, I float again before slamming into another wall.

Out of the corner of my eye I can make out some movement. Large, gray and black wings navigate the fluid less liquid of the skies. Small, green eyes lock upon a large, brown bug. White fangs are revealed to make way for that burst of sonic death that it produces so effectively.

_CARASH_

It takes only a second for the stone monster to attack, but it takes me half as long to react. Using my jumping skills to their best, I decided to aim for a more mobile target this time. Before it has time to respond, my spiny, back arms grip the creature's wings, and just as quickly, my legs crash into its chest. My eyes lock with its. I can almost read its weak mind. I can almost feel it scream _death _as we hang there.

Unfortunately for it, it does not speak to me.

My back arms clench, and with it, a surge of bones cracking and cold fluids flow around the blades. Pushing off its body, I take to flight. This time, I target the last pillar in range, while it floats wildly to its doom. After a few mid-air adjusts again, I hit the pillar, slide down its sides, and finally come to a rest on the floor below.

I turn to look back, and cannot help but let a torrent of confidence sweep over me. A small creature floats down a large, glowing river, while an army of extremely slow undead marches towards me. The fools are not even close to me to yell. _You make the undead appear…dead in movement. He, in the race of life, is a winner._

Looking forward, I take in the vast field of emptiness. There are no monsters that dare stand before me. No, all those who even attempted to stop me now rest a good deal out of reach. All that rests before me is the tower and the unsightly.

The deathknight, in its thick plate, holds its weapon firm. He channels a cone of swirling energies into the pulsating, corrupted shard while two, enslaved Forsaken stand at his side. Then, unexpectedly, I notice a lone figure resting in my path. Well, I could say he was alone if it wasn't for his companion at his side.

Wriggling angrily, the tiny fur ball dances at the feet of its master. The same man who braces a wonderfully crafted bow in his hands. The same man who has two partially reddened axes at his side. The same man, who wears nothing for a face, yet has piercing eyes to make up for it. However, from this distance, this man no longer has the confidence or rage to his vision.

Taking a step forward, I let my small pincers click in delight and nervousness as I approach the figure.

For a second I simply stare at it before I let out a call, "Old friend, you seem lost," the pincers click again, "Normally, you are the one leading me down the path, not standing in the way of it."

It takes him a moment to reply, "Hope, you have angered the king."

There is a pause before he continues, "All he wanted was your obedience! All he wanted was for you to give up what isn't yours!

Stringing his bow, he speaks againg, "Instead, he must take from you once again! He demands your death!"

Suddenly, he draws an arrow and lets it fly.

_CLINK_

Spinning rapidly in the air the arrow flies harmlessly away from my being. _CLINK CLINK,_ two more arrows float away from me; they nothing to stop my sudden advance.

I move swiftly. His arrows falter easily. Some of his shots even miss me completely. Nathanos doesn't miss. _You must know this isn't Nathanos. He must understand that the Scourge limits your capabilities. You see how it even makes someone as perfect as this warrior, as useless as a ghoul._

Then we must rid him of this limitation! We must bring him back to his true potential! But, I must be careful. _CLINKCLINK, _I must not destroy him, despite his feeble attacks.

Leaping forward, I charge the unmoving target. Even as the wind whips across my body, and the useless wooden sticks break on my thick skin, he does not move. It is true, this is not Nathanos. I must save him from his fate.

Reaching him in a flash, I extend my left arm forward and swing at his location. However, he leaps to his right, avoiding my blow. But he is still not as fast as he normally is. I swing my right arm and catch his chest. Lifting him into the air, I bring him a good distance off the ground before I gaze up to him.

My eyes lock with his, but I see nothing. His dull expression, and faded pupils speak a thousand cries of sorrow and a million calls for help. Even as he draws his bow forward and readies another arrow, I can tell he is screaming for help. And so I shall aid him.

He does not have a chance to fire another stick off. Pulling him backwards, I shoot my arm forward, let go, and watch as he flies back down the large corridor. He passes a small, lifeless patch of fur and bounces a few times before coming to a stop midway of the passage. Fidgeting in his spot, he attempts to bring himself to his feet, but he is no longer a threat.

Turning, I change my focus back to the large, pulsating crystal again. Though, before I truly lock on it, I spin my head, and check the army behind. The zombies lumber insanely slowly down the side path, and even now they have no hope of catching me. What a worthless force.

Now, I sweep back to the crystal, but a sudden, deep tone catches my attention.

_BARK_

Smiling inside, I glance down to the small, wriggling creature. Its tongue hangs limply from his mouth as he pants heavily. For a moment he looks up at me. Then, like so many times before…he bites me.

This time his teeth simply scrape against my armor, and his actions force me to smile. Well, I think I am smiling, I am not sure. I cannot really feel my lips, so, lets just assume I am. Anyway, I arch my head forward and adjust my body while he gums my legs.

Opening my mouth, I let the pincers click together once before speaking, "Watcher, food."

Instantly the dog lets go and begins looking around. Finally, he takes a step back, coughs, and magically brings to existence a large, white bone. Then, he repeats, coughing up another one. Quickly, he reaches down, tries to fit both in his mouth, and then decides on just one.

I reach down, pick up the other and stare into the empty sockets. The darkness creeps from every crack and dances across every fine indentation that the gods graced in the initial creation of this individual. Obviously it appears that the gods also graced this individual with death, but that is another story.

Now, however, this skull has one last task before its usefulness is over. Jerking my arm back, I fling it forward, let the skull fly, and watch it tumble through the air. Bits of slobber drift from the corners, while it glows amongst the darkness of the blackened halls. It stays adrift for only a moment longer, then quickly, crashes into the channeling knight.

Without turning, the deathknight grunts and begins to talk, "How dare you interfere with the King's operation!"

Now he turns, moving only his head to face me. Though, when he talks, he makes motions with his head to the two unseen figures at his side. "Take over, you mindless tools. I have a threat to dispose of."

Instantly the two slaves raise their hands, and let forth a surge of spiraling, blue energy from their hands. The knight draws his weapon to his front and begins marching in my direction. Blue dances from the corners of his armor, and flickers gently upon the cold air as he moves. His eyes are locked firmly with mine, but unlike the Scarred one, he appears more frustrated then enraged.

Pulling his sword to his front, he slows as he nears me, and begins to talk, "Ah, yes, the Commander spoke of you." He nods, "Yes, yes, he said you were special. Hope Blackwood."

Before I can even begin to unravel that strange comment, he speaks again, "Do you think you could hide behind your…costume? Your aura screams your name, and it screams it loudly!"

Laughing he points the blade's tip at me, "The King and my Commander wish you dead! That is what is yelled from the glow that gives away your identity!"

He moves the blade to the side and readies himself, "I, however, see you a fit to embrace the King's power!"

Tilting his head back, he motions to the large crystal, "Accept the magnificent energy that comes from our King! Let it feed your soul, and rid you of that hideous disguise!"

He takes a step forward, "Let it break your shackles that bind you to mortality!"

Another step is taking before he continues, "It will free you. Like it has freed your friends. Let the power of undeath's immortality guide you!"

I can feel the arms on my back lift upwards. A warm tingling washes ceaselessly below my unfeeling armor. The heat courses through my blood and drives my mind to raging. My pincers click multiple times before I lift my arms and take a step towards him.

Taking another, I begin to speak, "Freedom? What would you know of that, Deathknight? Does your crystal truly give you that kind of power?"

He readies to speak, but I cut him short, "Does your crystal show you the future, and guide you to perfection?" I grunt, "Of course it doesn't! You simply hide behind the power! You do not accept it!"

His expression changes and he increases his speed. Reacting to him, I speed up, lower my arms and begin to charge, but I continue to talk, "Let me show you the true power!"

Flinging his sword backwards, he draws a wall of energy into his blade, then swings it me. It wafts in the air for a moment, before the sounds of metals gliding across each other fills the silence around us. Jerking his arms, the knight attempts to free his weapon, but my bladed arms have it locked firmly in place.

Desperately, he lets go with one hand, points its palm in my direction, and lets fly a dark, sinister ball of black energy. It morphs into a perfect, lightless skull that drags a greenish tail behind it. Lasting only a second, it collides into my chest and instantly vanishes. _You bring failure to his deathcoil._

His eyes widen, and he takes a quick glance at my chest before staring back up to me. Lips quivering, the knight has found that which he thought he lost so long ago. Dancing upon his chilled tongue, fear has crept its way back into his existence.

Opening his mouth, he manages to let a few words out, "Only one being has ever resisted that! But that is impossible! You are human! You….are not….Nerubian! How…that is not possible."

Quickly, my spiny arms remove the blade from his hand. I reach up with my right arm, take a hold of the sword, and draw it to my front. He simply watches as I rotate the weapon in my hand and let its tip point downwards.

Chuckling, a deep laugh, I grab hold of the handle with my other hand and whisper to him, "Power is far more than just a disguise, knight, but I guess you never told that from your…crystal. Or maybe, he just need a closer look at it to figure that out."

The sounds of armor breaking and bones crunching rumble across these empty halls. Vibrating within the frozen chest, the blade dances for the deathknight.

His eyes drift downwards, and before he can look back up, I speak to him, "Here, let me give you that chance."

Using my might, I lift him up with his very sword. Using my might, I draw him back. Using my might, I let him drift upon his weapon, to float amongst the cries of all of those he dared take from me and those who care for them. Using my might, I swing him forward, and let the weapon feel weightless once again.

Tumbling through the air, he heads directly towards his crystal. He glides perfectly at the item he so wonderfully cherished. Slamming into the shard, he brings an array of flickers and random sparks to his oh so powerful stone.

He bounces off the roof of the structure, flips once more, and lands firmly on his back. Lifting his head up from the floor, he has time to gaze one last time at that which brought him to this powerful moment.

_CARASH_

Smashing him into the stone, it lets him know of true might. It splinters as it touches the floor, and cracks into a spectacle of marvelously colored fragments. Red, blue, white, yellow, orange, all sorts of beautiful rocks bounce across the now glowing floor. All of them let forth a mighty ring that sings wonderfully for all those who still hold within these walls.

My eyes follow them closely, and navigate to their movement. From here, the sight is marvelous, yet, the figure smashed into the ground is far more interesting to me. Yes, the figure of fantastic reasoning and illogical thought. Humorous.

At that, I lean back, adjust my shoulder and chuckle, "You were right, knight. True power really does set you free."


	15. Reunited

_**Sorry for the long delay on this chapter, got busy and I...well, lost the first two pages of the story. Don't ask, just know I found them. Anyway, here is the next chapter.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

Reunited

A sweet melody watches over me. It dances delicately upon my senseless body. Despite that extreme lacking, it still fills me with such grand emotions. All the darkness what once came with the crystal now sprinkles across the floor in an array of shards. In all direction the splinters of the grand item now fill the dark floor with dim colors.

The energy was freed, and with it, so were all the bright portions that make of that which is life. Good riddance. _You said it. He didn't get all of them quite yet, but this is a start._ Yes, this is a wonderful start.

Coming to a stop, one last wandering fragment makes its way to me. It rests at my feet, and shines up to me a brilliant red color. I stare at for a moment before decided to bend down and pick it up with my twisted, brown and red claws. Quickly righting myself, I gaze deep into the beautiful haze. What a remarkable shade of red. It is dark, yet commanding of light. I cannot help but remember the only other entity that bears such a pigment.

The Queen's marvelous eyes.

Indeed, it reminds me of her. Very odd that such an item would bring thoughts of someone I have never met, only someone I have seen. Twirling it in my fingers, I continue to stare. But moment lingers only shortly; mentioning the Queen, brings about thoughts of the true here, thoughts about her Champion.

Spinning, I look back from where I came. Resting on this side of the glowing river, a lone man stands. Clutched in his hands is a bow, and strung back by his strength is an arrow. The figure shakes a little before bracing the weapon to its face and firing.

_CLINK_

The arrow floats away without doing any damage. My eyes drift back down and I watch as the figure lowers its bow, puts it to its side and emits a strange sound. It leans forward, releasing bursts of loud noises before gaining control of itself. It is laughing. He is laughing. Nathanos is laughing.

He takes a step forward than slaps his leg. Shaking his head, he points and me and laughs, "Well, I will be." He shakes his head, "Hope, is that you?"

Before I can respond he slaps his forehead and laughs again before speaking, "Such a foolish question! Obviously my pup would not be dancing next to any nobody! No, he is shaking it next to the oddest!"

Still unable to control his laughter, he attempts to work towards me, "Cut my legs at the knee and call me a gnome, I was saved by the craziest, oddest individual I know."

At a second of wild chuckling he comes to me. Slapping my hard torso, he seems to have gained control over himself. Apparently, destroying this crystal ended the control over the Forsaken. Or at least I pray we are that lucky. _You better pray. He doesn't need to._

Suddenly, he jerks me forward and peers at me face to face. His eyes narrow and he sweeps his bright orbs across mine and in a flash he is no longer laughing. For a moment he says nothing then whispers, "Worm, let you know…I never wanted to hear those voices command me, ever again." He pauses, "All I have to say is…you are not such a worthless worm after all."

That is a way of thanking me, but I guess that will do. I am just happy he is here. I am happy he is no longer a Scourge. I am happy is mine again. _You seem rather ecstatic. He is rather happy indeed._ Yeah, so?

Before either of my insulting comrades can respond, Nathanos lets go of me, waves at watcher, and then begins marching down the path leading north of us. His eyes sweep over the shattered crystal than darts his vision back to me.

There is a pause before he talks, "Come on, Worm, this city isn't going to cleanse itself."

Attempting to smile through this crusty exterior, my body feels warm – well, the inside of me – and my spirit is ignited again. _You weren't motivated before? Even after you were given my power? Hurtful. He is disgraceful! _No, it's just good to have Nathanos back. I mean, he was only gone a few minutes, but it is good to have him back.

But I must not stay focused on that. No, he is back, which means he is most likely more determined as ever. And if I truly know the man, he is building a rage beneath his calm exterior that would make the Scourge army appear insignificant.

Taking to my feet, I catch him faster than I have ever before. As I near his side, he turns back to me and grunts, "Worm, if you don't mind, could you answer me one, little question?"

I nod and then he continues, "How, how did you manage to turn into…a bug?"

My mouth opens instantly, and I speak involuntarily, "A bug?! How dare you insult me with such a word! I am a Nerubian! I am…"

Closing my mouth, I watch as he stares at me with an expression of confusion and horror. I open my mouth again, but this time I am able to control it. "To be honest, Nathanos, I have no idea."

_You have a perfectly good idea! You know damn well where you got it!_ Actually, I really have no idea. It came from you, yes, but its not like I had some awesome discovery of human to Nerubian anatomy recently. Or ever. _You…good point._

Breaking my train of thought, or lack there of, Nathanos clears his throat then points at something behind us. "Worm, it appears your friends caught up to you."

Spinning, the sight of dozens of zombies fill my eyes. They scramble towards me fiercely. It appears that the slow, idiotic monsters finally managed to reach me; took them long enough. However, something strange appears to be tailing them.

A small pack of undead men chase after the zombies. Their weapons are held high and are constantly swinging at the zombies from behind. As they swing and chop, the zombies appear to take notice and turn. What an odd sight. The confusion has set in even for the mindless Scourge.

Soon, the entire force that was chasing me, or what remains of it, pivots and reverses its direction. The Forsaken soldiers brace their line and hold the zombies firmly. Decaying bodies of doom and death tumble directly into the disgusting lake. Drooping arms crush to drawn blades, and drooling jaws shatter against shields.

Looks like they will not catch me.

At that, I return my vision forward, and notice Nathanos a few yards ahead. His body is braced against a small extension of the wall. Covertly he lets a few arrows fly to the unsuspecting enemy near the other tower. Each slender stick of destruction finds its mark and nails its foe.

The enemy glances back and forth in a wild state of shock and mild confusion, but they will not find this hidden man. _You can barely see him. He needs glasses to make out this stealthy being._

I glance to a large pillar in the middle of the lake, and decide it is a good time to take Nathanos' advice. The muscles in my leg tighten, jerk downwards and quickly release with magnificent force. Soaring high in the dank air, I let the wind caress my sensitive eyes. Then, as usual, I bring my limbs forward and slam into the stone.

Small, white and gray fragments drift to the water below, and gather as I press from this location and take flight again. Again a wall crushes beneath my power. Drawing my vision back down, I let the swarm of undead fill my eyes. Skeletons brace the main paths, while ghouls draw themselves to the front lines.

Gray-skinned men of death clad in black robes hold behind both sets of fiends, while some even channel the thick blue energy into the crystal overhead. Massive blobs shield these said individuals, but I can still make them out from this elevation.

There appears to be a large force here, which is odd since the last stone had absolutely none. I am guessing that the Scourge felt the sting of defeat far too heavily back there to let another strike destroy their hope at any victory. _You must remove that hope. He must sting again, but this time, make them bleed._

Pulling myself towards the wall, I ready to leap, but a sudden loud noise catches my attention. A high-pitched cracking sound fills my senses, and for some reason, I remember it quite well. _You do recall it. He does take memory of the rather familiar shattering. _However, it sounds dim, and rather distant.

Unexpectedly, roars fill the air, and what spear to be mild cheers. I have no idea what that could possibly be about, I have no time to stop and think. It is time to bring justice to this corruption! It is time to bring light to those who hide in the shadows of fake power! It is time!

The world slows as I take flight again. Air gives me lift as a gift to shift these darkened times. Gravity tugs at my legs, yet lugs me forward with force. My eyes glance at the foes below, but jerk up to the targets they have. Soaring for a moment longer, time seems to stop, and makes way for that which is overhead.

Quickening, I draw limbs to an aggressive stance, and ready for landing. Claws clinking against stone erupt and their sounds break against eardrums. Pulling my upper body forward, I extend my arms and grab hold of two different individuals. Whipping my left arm up, I pull an unsuspecting skeleton high.

Just as quickly, I yank my arm back and let his body come crashing like a whip against his fallen brethren. Multiple skeletons shatter and shoot broken bones and limbs in all directions. Dragging my right arm equally as forcefully, I pull this one back and fling it forward.

Letting go at the very end, the ghoul bounces uncontrollably against the stone. Bits of flesh and broken bone follow behind, but his death is not my aim. Skidding now, it glides directly at what is my true target, the Abomination. Its weak body slides underneath the massive bulk and the ghoul crashes into the monster's tiny legs.

Wobbling in place, the blob attempts to stabilize itself, but there is no such luck for it. Finally losing balance, it tumbles forward and slams into the ground. Struggling there, I watch its futile fight. Also, I have the time to let sounds of growls and groans fill my hidden ears.

However, before I can turn and silence theses nuisances, another array of noises take over.

_WOOSH, WOOSH, WOOSH. THUD, THUD, THUD._

Turning for a brief second, I watch as arrows sink deep in exposed flesh and decaying bones. The creatures stand for only a moment longer before finally bulking to the fierce cry of death. The air had parted in a silent burst to make way for Nathanos' arrows, and now the shadows consume his unseen figure. Good to have you back, indeed. _You said it. He is already being saved by him. _

As I twist back forward, I feel my legs moving again. Leaping into the air, I spin my torso in the direction I am heading. Just as I lock in place, I come back down and slam into the squishy, unbelievably rancid body of the fallen blob. Reaching back, the green mist floats harmlessly around my body, but its existence almost permeates my thick hide.

Grabbing the axe from his third arm in his back, I pull a large axe from him. With a nifty flip of the blade, I turn it to face forward, and I let the robbed individual align in my sights. Focus, Hope, focus. Bring this man justice. Bring him the light. _You will open his eyes for the beauty of the glow! He will accept the power and let it tingle his spine!_

It almost leaves my hand effortlessly. Tumbling handle over blade, it twirls straight for its target.

_PHAWHACK_

The finely crafted blade sinks perfectly into its target's back. He lets a loud scream from his longs before crashing to his knees. Resting there, the figure loses control over the swirling blue beam. Just as the surge of pulsing power closes from his source, his chest hits the ground. One down.

Suddenly, the massive crystal above begins to flicker. The once, bright, corrupted glow now lessens its flow. Light fades from the stone, but the last standing corruptor continues to give it strength. He must be removed. _You shall end the power of the rock! He will destroy it all!_

I spin on the squishy, moist flesh, and take in the target to my side. The standing blob now blocks my path. His weapons swing readily and prepare to strike. Muscles upon his malformed face tighten, while drool leaks from his malicious mouth. Bracing my legs upon the fallen scourge, I ready myself, but movement in the corner of my vision breaks my concentration.

Shifting my head slightly, I watch as dozens of weak warriors barrel as quickly as they can at me. However, despite their directed flow, I am not sure they are actually aiming for me. Quickly darting to the sides, the Scourge form a barrier facing down the corridor I have yet to traverse. _You do not have a need to go that way. He will never fight on that path._

You are right. The Scourge does not prepare for the one standing in the heart of its operation, but instead braces itself for the attack of the enraged free. The mass of shields, metal, flesh, and bone mesh march towards me, yet focus their attacks on the true enemy around me. The Forsaken come.

Wielding high in the air is their woven symbol; strung together by the hearts of the many and the spirits of the reborn. Hung high on the banner held by a familiar face, the clothe icon bares the strength of the thousand. Hung high, the object of the determined warriors brings their enemies the final notice of their impending defeat.

It is the same banner held by the fallen friend. It is the same banner that wielder holds beside his brother, who stands beside his companion. It is the same banner that the fallen Jon now uses to drive fear into the chilled hearts of the damned. _You see it as well! He cannot technically call him "alive." You know he is dead. He knows Jon is as forsaken as Nathanos. _Yes, and may his forsaken soul bring spirit to this soldier!

At that, the wall of brave warriors rams head long into the wall of scourge. Once again, the cries of weapons ring for all to hear. The swords break against bone, while shields hold back the force that the damned can bring. They make to break this force! They make to break the attackers! _You were meant to break them completely! He was meant to bring an end to this attack._

Spinning to my side, I focus my now unbelievably rallied self towards the final target. I allow his rancid sight to disgrace my eyes for a second time, but this time, I truly prep myself for his incoming demise. Warmth burns beneath my numb armor. Fuel speeds through the strong veins. Victory rings through the pulsing muscle rattling the status quo in my chest.

And for the final time, I take to the air. The distance is short, so the leap is not forceful. The creature is large, so the aim is easy. The target is unseen, but the barrier blocking it is large. The end is near, so it is time for the enemy to feel the fear.

Claws forward, I slam into the foe. His weapons are far too slow, and each attempt at batting me away, falls short of its target. But as I rest on him, I do not attempt to end its unforgiving life. No, I simply rock gently upon its shoulders, letting the same expression from before take over my sight.

He does not appear to have fear running through his being. He does not have any sort of true emotion to feel nor express. What a shame, if you ask me. _You wanted to see his horror before he finished the job. He wanted to see a look of failure as the blob is used as a weapon_. Yes, but nonetheless, he shall serve his purpose.

Tensing my limbs against his weak body, I press all the force I can in sending him adrift. Aiming myself to the right, I lock my muscles for a last time, and then release them in a high, arching leap. I watch for one last moment, as the said abomination falls directly backwards. His tiny arms flail to grab air but he fails.

_THUD_

Slamming into the ground, the massive creature pukes a blue beam from his right side. The summoner's arms can barely be seen, and the channeled connection fades from the extinguished flame from his fingertips. Slowly, the tail of the trail fades into the large shard. It travels through the air, almost directly beside me.

Then, in a bright flash of white, it ends where it was meant to be. I, as well, land upon the same ending. My claws must grip firmly to stay upon the smooth stone. Screeching emits quietly from my hands, but I am able to stabilize myself on the wildly flickering object. The dull color calls to me from below. Looking into, I can see an array of visions, yet not one clear.

At the same time, I can hear the cries of a thousand soldiers, but not one chant is perfectly audible. Glancing to the army below, I take my vision from the shard for a moment to let the triumphing forces fill me with the final strength I need. Their arms whip through the air, destroying all in their path. Their longs cry loud for all to hear, and vanquish any hope left in the scourge.

From the right, I can see the reuniting of brothers lost for only a couple of hours, yet lost for what felt like a lifetime. Besides them, the elderly man is fueled by the bond the two share and by the sight standing above him. All of them fight on limitlessly, and bring an end to the defiant wall.

Sweeping my head to the left, I watch as the fine soldiers of this city crush the unprepared flank there. Forsaken pour of the wall, screaming a cry that even Scourge must now fear. All of them fall behind their Commander, their hero, Nathanos.

The motivated man drives straight through the little resistance remaining, and tramples any who dares cross his path. He rushes head long through dozens, and leaves equally as many broken behind him. Finally, he comes to a rest in the center of the falling foes, and lets out a mighty cry.

Then, turning his body in a 180 spin, he begins calling to his soldiers, "My soldiers! My friends! My brothers! The time has come!"

He raises his arm high, letting the cries of his men fuel his call, "The time has come to remove the burden of hospitality these fools try to bring! Those who dare enter our home and give us items they think we need! Give us objects as if we know no better!"

He turns to me and continues, "They come, and they come with their insults, and their foolish pride! We Forsaken, we horde, need no presents of pity such as this!" Pointing up, he motions towards the stone below me.

Quickly, he jerks his weapon towards me, "Go on, Hope, show them how much we appreciate their tokens!"

Shoving hard against the stone, I use all the might this body can afford. For a moment, the stone fights against the power that is mine. Then, shaking at the base, it begins to glide down slowly. I rest upon it for a moment longer, and let its sight fill me once again.

The color quickly fades from the defeated shard, and begins gathering speed. All the power held within it has been lost, and all those who drew strength from it begin to fall. However, I cannot help but feel as if we it is not only the Scourge who took something from this object_. You speak foolishness! He has grown thick-headed from this insect body!_

No, we too gained a new sense of accomplishment and achievement from this item. Its power gathered us from the top of this city, and down to the heart of the metropolis' beauty. It drew us to the Queen herself, and allowed us to bask in her gorgeous red glare. Then, even as the stone absorbed thousands into its grasp, we still came together to break one then another.

First, the stone fell to me, then the reunited free took to the stone north. With its fall, brothers welcomed brothers in arms again, and together, they marched forth to remove all taint from their city. Now, all of them come, reunited in a cause below the broken icon of power.

Suddenly, I leap back, and land upon the building itself. I only watch the drifting stone for a moment longer before arching my back. Then, for a final time, I open my mouth, let the pincers click their call, and then release a mighty roar.

Yes, this roar shall bring us the final call we need, and from below, the warriors return with shouts of their own. But mine…mine continues on; continues on such as that as our connections together.

The screeching stops, and the rock falls straight down. It is the same stone that cried to the masses for simple defeat. It is the same stone that only got rebellion in response. The same stone that tried to bind us to failure, yet bound us together. It is this stone that reunited the soldiers in this city.

It is the same stone that brought us our soldiers, our family, and our brothers; may its end ring loud for all to hear. This is our moment, the moment of the Forsaken.


	16. Seeing Red

Seeing Red

Cowards.

Every last one of these lifeless fools, cowards. The broken crystal shattered not only the remaining control over the denizens of Undercity, but also any shred of possible victory for the scourge.

Much of the undead foes that were positioned under the hard ground began to flee the moment the shard was defiled by gravity. Abominations lumbered heavily upon escaping lifts while skeletons and ghouls clamored to flee out the murky sewer pipes. Hundreds turned, and unlike most Scourge actions, retreated. The great exodus of the Scourge was a sight to behold.

Also exciting to prevent.

Forsaken warriors rushed after all that could be attacked in the massive sewers, and gave no mercy to those that were caught. While they moved upon the green, murky pipes, we also began to climb upon the same elevators that the cowards used; however, we used them for speedy intervention instead of hurried departure. They were still guests in our city, after all, how dare we not keep up with their quick-paced desires?

Dozens of remaining skeletons scurried half-heartedly down the three corridors that connected the carrying lifts. Ghouls stumbled stupidly down the main passage of the once grand king's chamber. Gargoyles and Abominations carried themselves precisely towards the failed moat and bridge.

Their speed was remarkable! These creatures were quick to march in masses down into the metropolis, but their speed on leaving is something of history books! Sadly, it was still no match to the vengeance and hatred that fueled the hearts of the victorious Forsaken.

The two were not even comparable.

All of us moved quickly, especially those of our group. Yes, all of us traveled fast, and, like usual, Nathanos led. Despite my recent additions, it was not enough to match the march of the malicious Marris. His legs drove him directly into the heart of the enemy, and guided his weapon to the exact locations on their frail frames.

Numbers upon numbers flew to his axes, to his bows, and to his hate. Occasionally, though, a few would be left or missed by his furious frenzy, and we would be stuck dealing with his slack. But we didn't mind. _You enjoyed it, actually. He almost squealed like a kid when he got a target._

It didn't take us long to catch even the abominations marching across the moat and bridge. However, when we did, the sight we found was rather disturbing. Standing in the center of the courtyard, where Jon felt the beginning of unlife, a large crystal floated gently.

Standing perfectly around the massive stone, four robed men channeled blue energy to the item. At first, I was expecting another explosion, a trap for all of us. Fortunately, there was no such attack. No, this crystal had no intention in any destruction. _You were still worried about an attack. He is lucky he was the bug; otherwise his pants would have needed changing._

The first creature to show us the true nature of the shard was a large gargoyle. Coming within a few yards of the hovering fragment, a burst of energy caught the creature in the chest, absorbed him, and then shot a thick, green beam upwards. At first all I could do was watch with mild dissatisfaction as the creature vanished from sight..

Then, after a couple of minutes, I finally decided to cock my head upwards to take in what was truly happening. Above us, a massive object waited patiently for its fleeing forces. A thick, green fluid flew from both ends of the object – the same liquid from the city. Huge, white skulls decorated the sides while towering, gray walls held in whatever could be held within.

A Necropolis floated above us.

Each time the crystal at ground level zapped a creature, it was there that they went. The cowards were actually fleeing into a facility that could shield them from our rage. Insulting, I did say! _You yelled it, not said it! He screamed it like a maniac!_

Of course, we could not allow such an offensive action to continue, so, we gave chase. Nathanos led as usual, but the rest of us were close behind. I led the three others, and oh, what hell did we raise!

Skeletons were thrown to drown in the mucus like fluid, while ghouls were trampled beneath our treads! Abominations flopped upon the cold ground, while arrows brought winged gargoyles the joy of impact!

That crystal would not save these creatures! It would not give safety to them! It would not shield them from our might, nor from our anger! But it would bring me to the insidious individual once again. Scarred tissue slowly formed over dead flesh. _You found that odd. He did._ Red lines formed where a shovel could have possibly landed. Thick armor covered the vast majority of his body, but not his eyes.

It were those same eyes that bore deep into my soul once, and, again, found their way straight to my core. Again, his hate found me, and with it, his entire being seemed to have ringed a resounding roar of death to my ear. But this time was different; this time, his rage made me feel nothing. This time, his anger and hate bounced futilely below my senseless skin. This time, he would do nothing to end my spirit.

And so, filled with all his useless fury, he headed straight out to the shard, stood by it for a moment, and, like so many times before, raised his blade at me. Then, in a cloud of smoke and lightning, he was teleported upward and away. Left behind, the robed men stepped away from the crystal, and one by one, took their escape.

However, as the last one got ready to depart, Nathanos gave him a present fit for such a coward. His bow twanged a terrible torrent of vibrations as the string was let loose. His arrow whispered "death" for all to hear. His target never made it into the crystal. His target fell short, amongst the equally as dead grass.

Without its summoners the crystal took to the lack of energy with a wail of terror before cracking and shattering midair. Its fragments rained to the ground with a tidal wave of colors, and I could not help but walk to it.

Now, I stand at the edge of the bridge. Now, I stand at the beginning of the beginning, yet also at its end. _You speak of such a marvelous paradox! He cries a beautiful array of words! _Now, I bend down, take a familiar crystal to my hand and peer deeply into it. A fantastic deep red color burns brightly for me. It burns just as the other down below, and as the eyes of the Queen. _You think of her quite often. He speaks a lot of that one._

Ah yes, that very Queen. Why does that shard sing her name to me? Why does it sing louder than the cheering Forsaken beside me? Why does it call louder than the two Chapel Brothers who stand together once again? Why does it seemed so important?

_You may never know. He might not find out._

As I stare at this crystal, I can hear the now paled Jon shouting to his brother. Turning, I watch as the two shove each other as before; as if nothing had ever happened. Quite remarkable how that man, just a few hours ago, lay lifeless upon a cold floor, but now yells besides his true brother and his new similar Forsaken companions.

It is also as if Mark had never had to endure the pain of knowing his only true friend died. But maybe that is for the better. Maybe it is a grand thing the two stands beside each other; though, the tale behind it I will have to know. _You must know how Jon stands here! He might know, but who cares? He wants to hear it!_

Suddenly, from my right side, a very welcome voice calls to me amongst the army of joy, "Worm, you…well, I approve, worm!"

I cannot help but turn to him and shrug, "Um…thank you?"

He shakes his head and walks towards me, "Do not act so confused, you twit! I mean, look at yourself!"

Waving his hand, he makes a motion for me to look before continuing, "The only things I have seen shape shift before are druids. And hell, let us be honest, cats, bears, and the egg-shaped, chicken thing do not bring terror to my soul."

His head tilts down and he laughs before talking, "But you; a giant spiky, senseless, insect warrior? Now that is a form I see as striking fear into our enemies!"

_You do not let him call my form an insect! You correct him! _Silence, I do not feel like starting an argument!

Unexpectedly, I feel a strong pressure on my front chest, armor…thing, and catch sight of an oddly close Nathanos. For a moment, his eyes simply gaze up at mine. They narrow and his head moves slightly as he silently commands something at me.

Then, with a mild shake, he speaks, "And Worm, the incident in the tunnels never happened. If anyone asks, I was heavily involved with the scourge and lost my mind. Got it?"

I do not say a word as I let his words sink in. Then my pincers click a few times before I respond, "Oh, you mean your amazing struggle with the abomination and its distraction to your quick arrival to the Queen?"

His eyes soundly widen, and he nods his head, "Good, Worm, very good."

Then, for another brief passing of time, our eyes communicate loudly to each other. They communicate loudly the ignorance of the past, and the power of our victory. They communicate loudly, yet not louder than what follows.

Before he can let go, a sweet, yet commanding voice rings from behind us, "Commander Nathanos Marris, where have you been?"

Letting go of me, he takes a step around my presence and I turn to watch as he speaks, "My lady…my queen, I was held up by the scourge in…"

Interrupting him, the marvelous voice takes over, "Enough excuses, my champion, I assume whatever you were doing was appropriate."

There is a pause, and I take this moment to turn to look at the source of this sound. A thick, faded cloak covers the top of her head. Now visible blond and white hair runs down her shoulders and rest just above her chest. Armor covers the bulk of her upper torso, and legs while a cape slides down her entire back. Also resting on her spine is large bow, and to her side is a sheath for a rather large blade.

But it is her face that is the most fascinating spectacle. Much closer now, I can see why I was so mesmerized by those eyes. A fine, red haze ripples from two perfect orbs of red marvel. They glow twice as brightly as they reflect from the paled skin and fine purple lips.

Breaking from her for a moment, I notice as the large, armored creature from her chamber lumbers heavily behind her,, but stops before the bridge. The moon light reflects from the now dull purple armor, while the same light is absorbed into darkness on its dark flesh. Thick hair rests on the side of his face, and I can barely notice a greenish smoke that is emitted from his mouth every time he breathes out.

His fingers flicker in and out wildly, and I cannot help but be distracted by their movement; such a rapid movement that I am forced to drift over to a figure just visible to his side. _You barely saw the hazy woman. He almost missed the purple banshee._

The figure floats delicately in the air, while a thin purple glow radiates from her grayish being. Her hands rest at her side, while her hair drifts maddeningly upwards in all directions. Although it was already mentioned, I still must say she is hard to see. _You didn't say that, we did! He takes too much credit!_

Suddenly, the voice brings me back to reality, "Marris, would you kindly explain why there are…human scum in my city?"

She does not move an inch when she speaks. Such harsh words for the lady, yet Nathanos replies, "My lady, they are members of the grand Argent Dawn! They fight the common enemy!"

Again, there is no movement from her, but Nathanos continues, "To this side is Carlin Redpath, to your other side are the young Chapel Brothers. Which, mind you, one is now a true member of the Forsaken!"

Her eyes narrow and there is a brief silence. Then she turns to look at Carlin standing to her right, our left, then looks over to the Brothers on her other side. After a moment she sighs then shakes her head.

Finally, she grunts then glares at Nathanos, "Fine, Marris, at least you pick your allies well."

She pauses as she looks over to me. Her eyes glare again and the red haze burns me deeply. Drifting over my body, her eyes absorb the sight before her, and then she speaks, "And…what is…this?"

Her voice cracks in disgust upon the last word. However, before I can even react, my mouth flops open unwillingly, and I begin to speak, "Banshee Queen, I am Gor'nak, elite warrior of the once proud Nerubian Empire!"

My arms shift forward uncontrollably, and I tilt forward to a slight bow, "I was once the true son of the once mighty King Anub'arak! Sadly, I succumbed shortly after the mighty King's disgraceful and disheartening fall to the Scourge! He refused to destroy his being, and brought upon our people his false reign!"

Rocking to the sides, my head shakes in respond to what was just said, and then I continue speaking, "That is of the past! What is important now is that my spirit has been a second chance for vengeance! To fight on until the False Anub'arak lays before my feet!"

And then I stop. My own voice echoes across the courtyard's walls and are followed by a harsh silence. Then, after a careful pause, the Queen speaks, "Well, then, insect, who do you serve? Do you serve your own foolish, selfish gain?"

The pincers upon my face click twice before I speak again, "No, my lady, I serve my host with complete loyalty. I serve that which gives me power to pursue my foolish gain."

Again she pauses before speaking, "And who might that be?"

My head lifts up and my eyes drift back upon hers, "That would be, Hope, Queen."

She glares at me then shifts her posture to the side before talking, "What?"

Darting to the floor, my eyes drift before glancing back up to her, "Sorry, Queen, let me show you."

Unexpectedly, my arms jerk wildly. Feeling slowly returns to my arms as spikes quickly reside into my flesh. The thick, brown armor vanishes quickly from my exterior, and I can even feel as the folds of plate upon my head crawl back under my scalp. Drawing inward, the additional limbs pull back to my body, while the pincers on my face return to my lips.

Then, as quickly as it came, the power leaves me before her. Scanning my body, I let the pink flesh fill my sight, and I cannot help but feel relief as I notice the remaining tattered clothing is covering all of me – at least the important places.

Quickly I jerk my vision upwards and peer at the Queen. Her eyes are widened and from her appearance I am assuming she is a bit shocked. Of course, she does not remain that way for long.

Instantly she catches herself, frowns and shouts at me, "What kind of dark magic is that?"

Her question throws me off and all I can do is shrug. However, before she can continue, I manage to open my mouth and let out a few raspy words, "Sorry, my lady, no dark magic here."

Glaring a bit harder, she speaks again. "Then, if you do not mind, would you care to explain what just happened then?"

Again, I shrug before I speak, "Honestly, I have absolutely no idea. I guess, more or less, that bug form you just saw came from within. Came from Gor'nak."

The Queen jerks her head backwards and looks upon the large creature. She shakes her head then peers back at me. Her mouth twitches slightly, but she is not able to speak first.

"My Queen, Hope here is very…unique. He most likely has no clue what or where that power came from, and I doubt any one truly does; even the insec….Nerubian inside of him." Nathanos blurts loudly from behind.

From ahead, the Queen begins to speak back, but, sadly, the voices within take over.

_You know he is right. You must understand I do not fully comprehend the bond between us; I just felt that the power was capable of being shared. He must just simply go with flow. _That doesn't make any sense. How did you know how to activate it, yet not know the processes?

_You cannot begin to understand necromancy, or any power behind what I am capable of. You must simply know that from my knowledge, I knew how to release what was mine, but how it truly happened is that of another being._

Bah, that still makes no logical sense at all, but, I figure by now that I would just assume most of what occurs really just occurs because it does. _He said a mouth full. You assume properly. _I guess I will find out another day…if ever.

Suddenly a loud, direct voice catches my attention, "Hope Blackwood, respond when I speak to you!"

Peering forward, the angry red eyes of the Queen flare wildly at my unfocused being. I am not sure how she knows my name, but I am betting it was shared between the two while I spaced.

Again, a voice shouts, but this one comes from behind, "Worm, answer her!"

Clearing my throat, I focus on her eyes, but before I am allowed to speak, the large, armored demon figure behind her bursts out. "Ah, my Queen, before you continue on with the feeble fool before you, I found instruments that might be of your liking."

The demon turns quickly, waves to an individual who, in turn, runs forward towards the demon-like monster. In his hands rest a large gun, that is dusty and almost certainly has unique markings on the side, and a dirty shovel. Handing them to the large monster, the creature lumbers in the direction of the lady and lifts one into the air.

Spinning it before her, he eyes it very carefully then speaks to her. "My lady, these were obtained hastily after the imbecile departed on his endeavors."

Why must everyone degrade me? _You must focus!_

He twists it sideways, but never takes his eyes off of it. "A remarkable tool this is. While we ventured forth from our lair after the heathens were routed, I had ample time to investigate it. And my lady, this is extraordinary."

Again he shifts the item, but this time he tilts it upwards, "Running across the vast surface of this seemingly ordinary instrument, are what can only be hundreds of intrigue runic symbols."

He clears his throat then smiles, "From my guess, there are more runes on this tool then a deathknight's sword. Not only that, but the almost remarkably baffling markings are written in a language lost to even my knowledge!"

Suddenly he frowns then tips the blade towards her, "I was only able to translate this almost insignificant portion on the finer edge of the blade." His eyes narrow before he continues, "It reads, _when light is lost."_

The queen remains silent for a moment before glancing up at him and frowning, "Varimathras, what does that mean? Why is that even remotely important?"

His eyes narrow then shift in my direction. "It means our guest is hiding information behind his ignorant persona."

Instantly the lady spins to me and takes a step forward. "Do tell, Mister Blackwood, is that true? Are you lying to me?" She raises her hand before I can talk, "Let it be known I take such insults very harshly."

I get ready to respond with my average confused attitude, but, for another fantastic time, I feel my mouth open involuntarily, "Gor'nak wishes to explain, my lady."

She frowns then nods. My mouth opens once again, "After my demoralizing march from the fallen empire amongst the cold in the north, I sadly succumbed to my wounds and died a short distance from the ruins. Unfortunately, I was found."

I pause for a moment, "it was the Scourge that reanimated so quickly after I lost life. Once I was among the mindless masses, the King himself found me able for a task fit of my natural, Nerubian crafting skills."

There is another break before I continue, "He tasked me with crafting a weapon for a warrior upon the lands unknown to me at the time, the Eastern Kingdoms, or more precisely, in the region you now call the Eastern Plaguelands."

I lift my arms and twirl them to add some strange meaning to the words, "Of course, he told me to find an axe or any blade that would be easy to hide. Sadly, I did not fully grasp his language nor the human language of the time, so, I had absolutely no idea what an axe or human weapon was. So…I used the first blade I found, and crafted it precisely to his expectations."

I clear my throat then continue, "That is all I truly remember before I fell once again while reanimated. As you unfortunately know, the Lich King's voice doesn't guide you in your best interests, so what it was for? Well, I passed too soon to deliver it myself."

Unexpectedly the Queen almost smiles and slaps her forward oddly, "So, so…let me get this straight. You, a Nerubian, crafted a shovel into a powerful weapon, for an unknown source…out of communication issues?"

She shakes her head slightly, and all I can do is awkwardly nod. Her head falls forward and I believe...she laughs. Then, with a swift motion she pulls herself upright then gazes back at me.

For a moment she simply shakes her head and frowns, "Normally, I would assume you were attempting to fool me, which, of course, would mine I would drown in the river below us. But, given the recent events…I must oddly take what you say at value. I do not see a shape shifter of such...unique qualities, so, of course, you can easily be exploited. Isn't that right, Demon?"

Varimathras shakes in his pot, frowns, speaks to her, and while the two debate, I find myself wandering amongst my thoughts again.

Why didn't you ever tell me my shovel was a powerful weapon?! I mean, come on, I thought I just had a regular shovel that was used to dig holes! _You do, the item was not meant for you. You simply have a shovel with uselessly powerful marking on it. He has a glorified hole maker!_

That is rather depressing. Why did you even bother telling her about it then? I mean, if it has no power, why explain it? _You would be dead if I didn't. He would have been impaled with his own useless shovel. _That is a good point.

Out of nowhere, something hits the back of my head, and I turn to see Nathanos peering at me. His eyes scream hate at me, yet yell at me to turn back to the figure before me. Once I do, I find the Queen glaring at me once again, but this time she seems a bit tense.

Slowly her mouth opens and she harshly barks at me, "Never before have I had someone so disrespectful amongst my halls! I give you the mercy of irrational reasoning, and you give me nothing but ignorant insults!"

Her hand rises to point at me then quickly drops, "Now, I will ask you once more, what do you have to say about this? And make it good, never before have I lasted through so many blind offenses!"

Ok, I do not have any idea what to. What do I say? Ok, I must go with my gut feeling. I must go with the thing truly on my mind. I have to! It has been burning behind my eyes, amongst my rattled brain, and it has been dancing on my tongue!

_You will not say that! He will be a dead man!_

I open my mouth and begin to speak, "Terribly sorry, my lady, but…well… I am at a lack of words. You see…"

My eyes drift down then quickly back upwards, "Never before have I seen something so beautiful."

_You…oh…no. He will have the opportunity to bury himself_! Do not worry, that was the best I had, it will work out fine.

Then, unexpectedly, her lips curl to a harsh shape. Her eyes burn a darker, sinister color than before. Hher muscles across her neck and almost entire body tense. I am guessing she did not take that the way I was hoping.

Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say.


	17. Spoken

Spoken

Red pours from her eyes as intensely as ever. Her muscles appear to be relaxing, but there are still visible amounts of tension flowing throughout her figure. Standing there, she rains down a wall of rage from her eyes. Glaring at me, she attacks me mentally and attempts to butcher my spirit without any physical movement.

I am certain that was not the wisest thing to say. _You are certain? He is about to die!_

Then, with a sudden jerk of her arm, she moves finally. Her gentle, purple lips quiver from anger before she speaks, "Would you mind…repeating yourself? I am not sure I heard you correctly."

The air itself breaks and flees as her voice ripples through the air. Every last individual in this room keeps motionless as if their presence might cause the lady in the room to snap.

I, however, fidget in my spot. What should I do? Should I answer truthfully? _You must lie! He must pretend he said something else!_ _You must be subtle_!

Yes, you are right. Sighing, I gain control of myself then open my mouth, "You are beautiful?"

_You need to look up subtle in the dictionary! He…run!_

There is no visible movement from the Queen. No, she simply stands the same way she had prior to be repeating myself. Except, now, I can feel a deep penetration of persistent hate radiating from her persona. Or, possibly, I am just readying myself for what I was warned of; preparing myself for a swift, unrelenting strike.

Suddenly, her arm whips forward, and thankfully, only her pointer finger remains extended in my direction.

It remains floating there, shaking as it aims directly at that which it wishes to destroy, until finally, her lips begin quivering again, and she lets her fantastic voice ring, "Do not patronize me, fool!"

Leaning forward, I can almost feel the true heat of the anger erupting from her mouth as she continues, "The dead are not anything resembling beauty! You insult me with your blatant lies!"

Her voice echoes across the empty courtyard, and, before she can move in any sort of violent and destructive way, I reply to her, "My lady, I am not one to lie. My confusion is plentiful enough to make that impossible. No, if I was to be actually lying, I could not look you into your eyes."

My chest tenses. Within, the flurry of a nervous drum rattles the walls of firm chamber that is my body. A warm, tingling sensation dances anxious across the back of my throat, and springs forward upon the strained tongue ahead of it.

Fluttering in my mouth the producer of voice, the coordinator of speech, the organizer of rhythm, begins in it task. While it does, my wide orbs lock with her red spheres of perfection.

I then speak, "You, Banshee Queen, are beautiful."

In a flash, her eyes narrow, and her mouth opens. The tone at which she speaks is harsh, and directed, "There is nothing beautiful about death! Stop speaking such lies! I should silence you where you stand!"

Now, I pull forward, bringing myself closer to her. She does not flinch as I come within inches of her face. Speaking loud, yet firmly, I answer once again, "I guess I do speak a partial lie, my lady."

Leaning back, her expression changes slightly, but stays intently enraged. However, I continue, "Life is only capable of something that could be called beautiful. Yes, that is very true."

She comes back to an upright stance. Peering at me, she stands confident and triumphant. Sadly, I am not finished yet, "Though, death has proven again and again, that it surpasses any adjective deserving to life."

Now, I am the one posed for readiness and striking of confidence, "It would be insulting indeed for me to call you anything other than dazzling, striking, or even gorgeous. Insulting…"

_PHAWHACK_

Spinning, the world feels light. Everything rocks back and forth, and, after what feels like a short eternity, I am able to focus. It takes a while, but, once I am stable, I can see clearly.

For some reason, my eyes are now facing Nathanos, who stands to my right, out of my front-facing vision. From where he stands, I can see his mouth hanging open. His eyes are large, and scream a torrent of confusion to me. I think, however, he is peering at me this way more because of what I said, not because of the growing, throbbing pain in the left side of my face.

Slowly, I raise my hand to the pain, rub it gently, and then let the thoughts soak in. I cannot completely think at the moment, but I do believe I was struck. _You believe? He almost got his head taken off!_

Carefully, I readjust my vision forward, gaze up at the lady, and let her fill my sight. At first, her eyes glow intensely, calling me to a deserving death. Then, after a second, she pulls her hand forward, grabs it with her other and stares awkwardly at it. Her mouth cracks open, but nothing comes out.

Standing there, she simply stares at her hand, rubbing the back part of what I am guessing is what she struck me with. Finally, after a few moments, her opened mouth lets loose a few, almost impossible to hear words, "It…feels…warm."

She continues gazing at it. Foolishly, I let my idiot trap open, and talk, "Why does that seem to bother you so?"

Instantly, all thought of her hand vanishes. Whipping her vision upwards, she takes her attention to the fool of which shall absorb her attitude. She comes to a tall stance once again, then lets forth a volley of rage, "You idiot, do you hear nothing I say? I am dead! I feel no pain, no true sensations, no happiness, no…warmth."

Her eyes drift to her hand at her side then quickly jump back at me, "How could anyone as thickheaded as you ever begin to understand the true, ugly nature of death? All you see is so fake visions of a sight lost long ago!"

I shrug then respond, "Maybe so, but I have spent almost my entire life in the past of one's life. Each body I laid to rest, I let their history absorb into my being the best I could. Each body I laid into the ground, I was given the pleasure of getting to know the gods' work of art."

Glancing up to her, I pause a moment before continuing, "And, yes, you may not have been buried by my hand, but from this brief encounter, I have discovered that you are far more…of a masterpiece."

She takes a stomping step forward, glares at me, then draws her head down to match my eye level.

Her eyes dance wildly upon mine before she narrows her sight and yells loudly, "Silence yourself! I am nothing even remotely close to that of a masterpiece! The gods blessed their work with feeling, joy, and warmth! And as I have said, I am lacking of all attributes!"

Moving my head forward, I am once again within inches of her face. Again, I can feel her hate hovering from her red eyes. And again, I feel my mouth open and I reply, "That is a shame, truly it is."

They are so marvelous. Each eye has a dark pupil, but, yet, is covered with the fine red mists that bring life to her so-called lifeless orbs. Her skin still appears as smooth as when it was in life. Even her lips appear as fine as that of any living woman, yet hers quiver gently, and hide behind a small cloud of chilled air that wafts from her perfectly formed mouth.

Yes, she does seem to be void of joy and feeling, but those are hidden. All that she seems to be lacking is warmth. I speak once again, "My lady, it is true, you lack any heat for your body. But I find that truly disturbing"

Inching forward, our eyes do not break. "Here…let me share mine with you."

Pulling forward, I can feel a storm of chilled air dance across my face. My lips lock firmly upon her, almost frozen, perky puffs upon her face. The cool creeps from the said area, seeps down my cheeks, and then ends under my eyes. There the cold dances, and brings tears to my eyes. The feeling is fantastic; my lips know nothing better.

Perfect.

My eyes stay locked with hers. The cool tingling them is nothing to the warmth that runs up from her soft lips. Her skin appears to glow as the heat flows up her cheeks, through her smooth skin, and stops below her already heated eyes. Yes, a fine glow permeates from the smooth, dazzling skin that is hers.

For a moment, the two of us are locked together by our different, yet the same lips. From our connection, I take only the cold, only that which makes her ugly. From there, I take only that which prevents her title of masterpiece. From there, I take from her all that drives her to sadness, and give all that deserves.

And from how long it lasts, she appears to be ready for it.

Sadly, it suddenly ends, and replacing it is a sharp pain in my chest. I stumble backwards, letting the pulsing pain in my torso replace the wonderful feeling that just filled my lips. Well, I should say almost replace. _You…are…a maniac! He is a stud!_

My eyes break for a second, but focus back on hers once I am able to control myself. She stands confused, her mouth slightly open, but her eyes angrier then ever. Quickly, her lips curl, her teeth exposed. Reaching down, she grabs for her sword at her side and takes a step for me.

Rage pulsates from her presence, and her voice rings a song of hate for me, "How…who….fool?!"

She speaks in a rattled tongue, but, after a brief pause, she seems to gain control, "You dare touch me?! You dare so…without my permission!"

Pulling forward, her blade becomes partially exposed, "I will cleave the life from your heart! You will die where you stand!"

Taking a step forward, the world itself seems to grow heavy. My mind feels as if it is unable to bear the burden of life's will. My body grows weary, unable to utilize its strength desired. Everything around me pulsates perfectly, yet maddeningly. I can hear death calling me, and it screams as loudly as a vibrating blade amongst the cold air.

_You should have not spoken! He should have bought her a drink first!_

Closing, my eyes do not wish to absorb the inevitable strike. All I can do now is wait, and think. What I think about is not a story I can begin to tell nor can I begin to describe. All that must be known is that what I said is what I felt. I shall get what I deserve for such honesty.

Nothing.

I stand situated where I was after she alerted me of my incoming punishment. That in itself drives a maelstrom of confusion into my mind. Of all the action and entangling in my skull, only one thing truly yells louder than the rest. Only one thing takes focus in my fried brain. Why am I still standing?

Slowly, I open my eyes. At first, I am expecting her to be calmly waiting for me to release myself from my cowardice and take my death with eyes open. Creeping all the way open, I take in the sight before me.

The Lady still rests in her spot, her hand on the blade and her focus on my blood, but there is an addition to her. Located near her right side, next to her blade, a purple haze floats around her body. The legless creation wafts woefully, yet perfectly at the side of the Lady. This aid creation bares the body of a woman, though bares the form of a ghost.

It is the banshee from demon's side, and it is her ghostly hand that stays the vengeance fist of the Queen. Wafting there, drifting up and down at her Queen's side, the purple form draws herself firmly beside the Queen.

For a moment, the Queen continues glaring at me, but then, slowly, turns her head and peers down at the figure halting her advance. At first, the Queen's eyes pierce deeply in the hazy being, but, oddly, as they stare at each other, it is as if the Queen's hate subsides.

Falling from her face, the gnarled teeth vanish behind the marvelous lips I caressed, and the twisted torrent of rage ripples into nothingness. They continue to gaze at each other, but nothing is said. Though, from the constantly changing expression on the Queen, there is much implied from the two staring.

What? Well, I can only imagine what they are thinking. _You wish he could know. He wants them both. He knows it. _Silence yourself! That is nonsense! _He should get both! You need to shut it! He is a man, he has needs! You wouldn't know anything about being a man. He…oh, no you didn't!_ SHUT UP.

Unexpectedly, a voice I have yet heard floats through my mind. Oddly, from the strange echoing and reverberation of said voice, it feels as if it is coming from inside my very head. That doesn't seem possible, but it sounds as clear as one of my voices, yet sounds like a whisper.

"You must not act so hastily, my Queen."

That voice…it must be coming from the banshee. But how…how can I hear it? She is not talking to me, and they are not close enough for me to hear.

It continues, "The boy is different. He is remarkably simple, and you must definitely know that."

Such oddity! There is no way I should be hearing this! I cannot be the only one near them that can hear. Not possible!

Turning my head, I glance over to Nathanos. Strangely, he is starring directly at me, and his mouth is hanging open. His hands rest limply at his side, and his eyes are wide open. From what I can tell, he cannot hear the voice, or maybe he chooses not to. I don't know, but I am certain he is not taking anything in.

Suddenly, the banshee speaks again. "Take his actions mercifully, he knows not of what he does. That is obvious."

Slowly, the Queen's lips move ever-so-slightly, and she whispers back. "They will take my actions as weak. He must be punished."

Replying, the Banshee replies, "They will accept what you do as the usual strength implies. Fear them not. The boy means more."

Focusing, the Queen narrows her vision on the Banshee before continuing, "He is an imbecile. He is a simpleton to rule all others."

The Banshee interrupts, "But there is an aura about him. You can feel it."

For a second, they continue to gaze at one another, then out of nowhere, the Queen lifts her hands to her lips, draws her delicate fingers across the flesh, then just as quickly, draws her hand back down.

Instantly the Queen looks back over to me. Once again, her lips form into a frown, and her eyes attack my area with mighty fury. After a moment of trying to mentally maim me, she twists to the large demon behind her.

The demon takes heed of the movement, and glances over to me. He looks at her, and then whips his eyes back to me. To her. To me. Her. Me.

With a loud grunt, he flashes his sight to her and shrugs. "Kill him?"

Sighing, she peers back in my direction, and begins heading over to me. Once again, my heart comes to a chill. This is it. The banshee tried fantastically to save the doomed, but that stupid demon in that hideous armor has sealed my fate. _You should get vengeance. He should get his gun and shoot him!_

Within a second she is upon me, but oddly, she simply draws her eyes back to my level and loudly grunts. There is no sound of swords unsheathing, or the ring of vibrating blades. No, a simple groan and a loud sigh.

Her voice follows after, "If you ever dare touch me again, I swear, death itself will cry for you."

Inside, my mind almost explodes. She didn't kill me! _You still live! He should still buy her a drink! _I was certain I was in for it! Her eyes still throw hate at me, but she seems less enraged than before. I wonder if…

Suddenly, a voice from behind breaks our little encounter. "My Queen! My Queen!"

Turning, I catch sight of a forsaken soldier run from behind a large entrance. He sprints quickly to the middle of courtyard, stops and peers over to her.

Standing upright, she forgets I even existed and shouts back to him, "Warrior, what do you need?"

He adjusts his posture then speaks, "My queen, the foul monsters destroyed the Zeppelins! They destroyed our route to the land of Kalimdor!"

A loud voice from near my side replies first, "Damned creations!" Nathanos gnarls his teeth as he speaks. "They dare sever logistical links between us and our allies!"

Nathanos moves into my sight and into the grassy courtyard. Steadying himself, he continues, "They dare try to break all reinforcements to us!"

Replying the sweet voice from behind takes over for where Nathanos stopped. "Clever fiends! We may have routed them this day, but if we cannot get troops, let alone word to our allies, this was for nothing!"

A field of voices begins to rise up. Droves of forsaken begin rant and rave about the recent events. The entire courtyard erupts into an epicenter of noise, uncontrolled voices, and chaos! I turn and peer back into the crowd. Taking a step away from the Lady and the demon, I absorb the sight, and watch as the two leaders attempt to control their troops.

So many voices! _You hear them all! He doesn't hear them alone…_

"Silence!" A dark, sinister voice booms over all others. Instantly, the pack of warriors quells their noisy uprising and gaze over to the demon's location on the bridge.

For a second the monster simply stares into the crowd, and then glances over to the Queen. "My lady, there is one ship left. One vessel to carry a pack of wayward warriors across the twisting tides."

Glancing up to him, she doesn't have time to reply before he continues. "It is due back on the top of the hour. If you due recall, my Lady."

Instantly the Queen nods then sighs. She rubs her forehead then suddenly backs a weird, high-pitched sound. "Yes, the ship bound from the North! Precisely, it will do perfectly!"

She turns to the tall demon at her side and begins whispering to him. I cannot hear a thing the two say, but they appear to be very chatty about what whatever is being communicated. After a moment, the demon glances over to Nathanos then to me before he looks back to her Queen. Finally, the lady steps pins away from the foul monster and readies herself.

Spinning, she looks to me and once again, glares, "Commander Marris, take your so called allies, and head to the Zeppelin towers. If they wish to show how loyal they are to you, then they will have no problem trekking across the vast oceans."

Without looking at him, she continues, "As for this insolent whelp, if you have an urge to throw him into the Maelstrom, feel free to do so."

Nathanos chuckles then replies. "Yes, my Queen. I shall keep that in consideration."

Spinning from me, she waves at the demon then at the pack of soldiers. Quickly, the large, towering monster takes a few, lumbering steps in my direction. Hovering over me, the bulk of armor and cold skin dwarfs my very existence.

Unexpectedly he extends his arms and shoves my two accessories in my face. Carefully, I take them from him, adjust them on my person, and begin walking backwards. Just as I do, I notice a few undead soldiers dragging the Brothers and Carlin across the bridge.

Quickly, I turn to the courtyard and begin heading towards the already advancing Nathanos. Normally I would have stayed and asked questions about what a Zeppelin is, or why we were picked to go, but I figure I would rather live. _You would have been maimed. He would have been chopped into tiny pieces._

Oh well, I always wanted to take a boat ride. Always wanted to see the oceans. _You will see them clearly. He will even get to swim if the Queen has her way!_

Out of nowhere, a sudden force in my pack draws my attention. A hand grips my shoulder firmly, and a voice follows before I can look to see. "Hope, you are a lady's man!"

Jon's voice sounds raspier than before. Coming to my side, his gray skin looks as familiar as it was on the stairs where he rested earlier. However, he now bares a large smile on his face and some lost skin on his neck.

Sadly, before I can reply, Nathanos talks. "Worm, you defiled the Queen! You should be dead!"

Glaring at me, he shakes his head. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckles, "Good thing you are as good a smooth-talker as your father."

Laughing, Carlin finds this all hilarious as the five of us and a few extra Forsaken head through the large entrance where the reporter came in. Quickly we pass a bend then out through another exit. Thankfully, this one has led us back outside.

Before us, two large towers loom over the fields of grass before them. Two hills hold the weight of the structures, and lead straight to us. On those said fields rest two large piles of wood that appear to burn and crackle gently in the night breeze. Those must be the Zeppelins they were talking about, but where are the boats? _You fool, they are flying machines! He will be airborne!_

Great, I hate heights!

Suddenly, Carlin's voice breaks my wanderings, "Nathanos is right, Hope, your father could work the ladies over with his speech."

Nathanos laughs then speaks, "He made all of us jealous." He turns to me before continuing. "That is how he got your mother."

It takes me a second to realize he is continuing the story before I began to wander. My mother. How I miss her. Too bad I never truly got to know my father. Wait, my father! They speak of my father again! That is what is important. How could I have forgotten? How could I have let this go for so long without asking them what they obviously know? _You were fighting? He…the Scourge? _

The two of them laugh together, but I think it is time to end this moment. It has gone on far too long where these two have tales over the one I never knew nor can remember. I have had enough!

Grunting, the two of them peer over to me. At first, I say nothing then loudly burst at them. "What do you know about my father?"

Instantly, the looks on their faces fade. They grow serious and glance wildly at each other. However, before they can speak I continue, "Don't worry, we will have plenty of time out to sea to discuss."


	18. Awkward

Awkward.

There is nothing better to describe the current situation than awkward. We traveled down the wide, gravel path and up the underestimated sloping hill in complete silence. We entered the dusty, broken frame that is the entrance to a large tower in complete silence. We walked up the spiral, creaking stairway in complete silence.

Awkward.

Finally we exited out of the tower onto a large, shaky ramp that felt as if it could barely hold the weight of the five of us. The chains that gave the majority of the support to the structure shook and wailed loudly as we traversed the short blank. Standing together we now wait at the very edge and stare out into the vast horizon before us.

Carlin stands silent to my left while Nathanos rocks nervously as he obviously holds back the torrent of words I know he is dying to speak to me about – no pun intended. _You meant a pun. He is making fun of Nathanos!_ No I am not_. You are saying Nathanos cannot die again? He is saying Nathanos is immortal?!_ What are you two talking about? _You know damn well what! He knows! _Huh?

Bah, stop talking to me! You are making me lose my train of thought. _You had one to begin with? He is a goldfish in disguise. _If you two don't stop, I swear. I swear I will leap off this ramp! _You don't have it in you. He will not dare_. Don't make me come in there! _You…how do you plan to do that? He confused me_. Perfect.

Great, now I completely forgot what was going on. Look what the both of you did? _You make my brain hurt. He hurts my head. _You two don't have heads! Gah, now I am confused, rattled, and annoyed. What was I thinking about?

Oh yes, I remember now! The two here are not talking to me because they are holding something back. _You are making stuff up. He is full of it!_ No I am not, they are obviously not telling me something very important! _You cannot make that sort of assumption. He is not a scientist; there are no hypothesizes here!_

Stop it! I am forgetting….wait…what are you two doing? _You are asking a weird question. He does not seem to understand what he asks._ No, you are doing something here. You two are trying to distract me, which, in itself is rather odd. The voices in my head are deliberately confusing me. _You sound like you have personal problems. He needs a witch doctor._

Why are you two going out of your way to cause me to lose my focus? _You are making terrible assumptions again. He…well…yeah._ Ha, I knew it! _You knew nothing! He doesn't know nothing about knowing any…thing_. You are stuttering!_ You need to stop giving us away. He needs you to use subtlety!_ What is that you are hiding from me?

_You are not hidden from anything. He is protected from it. You need to stop speaking! He needs to hear it. _Will you two just tell me already? _You will get nothing out of us. He will only hear it from them; we do not have it in you to tell you._

What, why? Why cannot you tell me? _You wouldn't like what we told you. He doesn't understand we don't have it in us to tell you. You must finally talk to them over it. He must._

Staring forward, I get that awkward feeling again. Now I am not sure if I want to know. The swarms of locusts in my head rip and mangle at the firm, yet loose surface that is the plain of my mind. Confusion takes control at the current moment and all focus and determination are of nothing.

What do I do? It is most definitely certain that what I seek is the hidden box of darkness. Maybe the both of you are right. Maybe I should not search for the answers I so desperately desire. Maybe I should let them go. No, no, I cannot! They are far too important to let go. I must find the true answers to the riddles of my time!

_You are talking to yourself. He, at least, needs to talk to us._

No, I don't need to speak with either of you. What I need is to crack the two thick-skulled, voiceless individuals besides me.

Leaning back, I let my spine roll in an arch slightly before I hear a slight popping sound. Then, carefully, I lean back forward. I throw a glance at the side of Carlin's head then over to Nathanos'. Clearing my throat loudly, I prepare for my statement. Opening my mouth, I attempt to speak but nothing comes out.

Ok, you failed there. You just need to try again. Again, I clear my throat, glance to my left than my right, and attempt to speak. Nothing, again. Blast! Ok, ok, calm yourself, Hope, calm yourself. This is important, you must not falter again.

Once again I clear my throat, throw the glances, and open my mouth. "So, now…what?" My voice sounds raspy and broken. There was no confidence to the noise that burst forth, but it came out nonetheless.

However, nothing comes back in return. Great, now I feel even more…weird. If only they had said something. It could have possibly of made me feel a bit better. Now, I just feel…

A voice from my left emits softly, yet firmly, "Do not worry, lad, we will get to what you desire shortly." Clearing his throat, Carlin makes ready to continue, "We just need time…to compose ourselves."

For a moment I let the words he said to me sink in. I frown uncontrollably then feel my lips move, "You have had plenty of time to compose."

There is a brief silence before a short, and quiet response arrives, "I know, Hope. I know."

I get ready to continue, but a loud screeching sound fills the air. Jerking my head to the right, I scan the skies for whatever that horrific noise was. At first I cannot find anything of interest, but, then, just on the horizon, I can see a small brown figure.

Continuing to stare, I watch as the speck quickly grows to a small figure, and then into a large figure. Coming to shape I begin noticing the features of the floating craft. From what I can tell I can see a large, purple object resting above a large, brown item. As it moves, I notice that both objects are connected by what appear to be large ropes.

I turn my body and narrow my vision as the ship comes almost into complete view now. It is true that the top, purple item is attached by rope. The said object appears to have a few, large, gray blades sticking out in multiple directions from its rear. It also seems to have thick, gray sheets attached to its rounded surface.

The lower portion looks as if it is made out of a wood and seems to be covered in the same metal that the top section has. From the design, I can tell that the front of the lower portion slants downwards and inwards from a blunt tip at its very front. Also, the bottom sides of the section slope inwards and come to a single plank at the bottom. Looks like a boat with a balloon carrying it.

I have no idea what this thing is supposed to be, but hopefully one of the others does. Again, I open my mouth and get ready to speak, "What is that?"

Gah, I was hoping for something more profound. _You are hoping for a lot. He is definitely hopeful._

Instantly Nathanos sighs then replies, "Worm, that is a Zeppelin." Grunting, he replies, "Given you have no idea what you are seeing, let me explain."

He extends his arm and points at the upper, purple part. "That is a large balloon. It keeps the rest of this flying death trap a float." Lowering his arm a bit, he continues, "That is the main body. It, more or less, is the body of a ship strung to the balloon with rope. It is a flying piece of junk."

Carlin sighs then begins to speak, "Nathanos, it is not that bad. Yes, these things shake and rock like a boat on the high seas, but I have never…well…only once have I been on one that crashed. Yes, it was a bit horrible, but I am still standing here today, aren't I?"

Nathanos shrugs, but I cannot help but feel a bit unsure. Despite the fear coursing through my veins now, at least I was correct; that stupid thing is a balloon with a boat attached to it.

My vision once again sets forward, locked with the floating fortress. As it nears even closer, I catch sight of what appears to be long objects jutting from the top edges of the wooden platform. Narrowing my sight, I scan the said protrusions for a big longer than quickly realize that these appear to be weapons of sorts.

Actually, from their size, armor, and color, they look as if they are small, plated cannons. I can only count four total, two on each side, but nonetheless, this ship seems to be rather well armed. _You make a rather obvious observation. He seemed to have missed the central theme here._ What? _You missed the middle._ _He scanned completely over the green._

For a moment my mind is rattled, but strangely I suddenly find myself shifting my vision from the guns to the exact front tip of the platform. All the edges and underbelly rim connect to the large, wooden nose of the structure. However, what is truly notable is not that, but a small, greenish entity a few feet from it.

It appears to be alive. Not only alive, but it appears to be rocking a large, circular object in its hands. I think that this thing is steering the Zeppelin. _You think right. He should do thinking more often!_

I take a step forward, lean my body towards the ship and squint at the said green…thing. Never before have I seen such a strange, small, creature before. It cannot be more than three feet tall. Of course, the wheel in its hands is smaller than it, but still…so strange. _You are one to be talking. He…well, yeah!_

Shaking my head in disbelief of such a miniature captain, I cannot help but notice my mouth open, "What in the world is that small, greenish thing steering the ship?"

Instantly laughter erupts from both my sides. I spin to Nathanos. He is tilted forward slightly, and his head shakes back and forth as he continues to laugh. After a second, he looks up at me, smiles with what little flesh he has left on his face and then uprights himself.

Clearing his throat, he shakes his head again and speaks, "Worm, have you not seen a Goblin before?"

Confused and baffled why I am supposed to know what this is, I cannot help but turn to Carlin for support. Sadly, he is trying to force back laughter and shaking in obvious delight from my comment.

Angered, I glare at him and burst out loudly, "What is so funny? And what in the gods' names is a Goblin?"

Carlin then coughs once, looks straight at me then begins to talk, "Hope, that thing, or more correctly, that man, is what is known as a Goblin."

Twisting my head, I look at the ship that is almost upon us. Now, I can see the small figure clearly. Long, pointy ears flow from the sides of his head, while a mild shine erupts from the top of his bald head. A massive smile rests below a long, jagged nose that fits perfectly with his not so handsome face. _You should not speak like that! He is rude! _I guess that is what a goblin is. Yeah...

The vessel begins to slow, shifts in position to the platform we are on and approaches us from only a short distance away. However, I still cannot help but stare at the…goblin. Such a strange little thing. It must be no bigger than an average gnome.

Shaking my head, I continue to stare at it as the rather large ship starts to align itself. Once again, my mouth opens, and I begin to talk. "Never would I have imagined…a Goblin."

Out of nowhere, the high pitched noise from before erupts from the ship. The ship shakes slightly and rather oddly. The noise returns another time, and I slowly begin to notice that I do not think it is actually coming from the ship itself.

Filling the air again, the noise scratches my eardrums then a rather scratchy, yet whiny voice follows, "A goblin?! I am not just a mere goblin, my tall, pink fellow! I am THE goblin!"

Unexpectedly, a small figure appears at the nearest edge to us. Peering down at the group, the figure claps its hands, leans forward, and leaps over the ledge. He lands with a thump and stumbles a few from Nathanos and takes a few steps forward.

Sadly, the Zeppelin itself emits a noise of its own as the one who controlled it left it to its merry way. Part of the ramp bends and snaps as the ship collides gently with the frail structure. The metal on the sides rips easily through the moldy wood. Fortunately, the ramp digs deep enough into it to begin dragging the ship to a stop.

I take a step backwards and watch nervously as the metal wall slowly slides against the chain that is this ramp's support. A loud screeching follows after, telling the tale of metal against metal, and screaming the possibility of falling.

Creeping forward, the vessel comes to a halt, releasing the chain from its unguided path and easing the chill in my heart. There is a brief silence as all of us stand and gaze upon what just happened.

The wailing voice is the one to break the silence, as it rings upon my rattled mind, "Ah, perfect landing indeed!"

From behind me, the sound of a disgruntled Nathanos follows, "Perfect? What kind of maniac are you?"

I turn and gaze down at the small fellow below me. A large grin, exposing two rows of oddly white teeth, stretches across his face. His huge, dark brown eyes rest inside two sunken pits that are his eye sockets.

Clapping, his hands call our attention to him as he prepares to speak, "My skinless friend, I am not a maniac! I prefer to think of myself as crazy!"

Before anyone can reply, the small creature walks to his ship, turns back to us and laughs, "And as I was saying before this fine vessel decided to share with us her two cents, I am the goblin! The crazy goblin!"

He takes a step backwards then continues, "You pinkys can refer to me as Captain Skimward Peppers Yacken." He clears his throat then carries on, "Of course, a simple Captain Skippy will suffice."

In a flash he turns away from his, laughs a high-pitched, broken laugh again before speaking, "And this is my ship, The Transporter Four!" Slapping the side, he gives the metal a slight shake, "I call her MiBaby."

His eyes light up, but his teeth shine brighter; such a mighty smile. _You think it is almost creepy. He wants teeth like that._

Instantly the spunky figure looks up at the side. He is no bigger than half the height of the exposed wall. There is no way he is getting up that without some sort of aid. _You should give him a boost! He should bring him a chair._

The high-pitched voice permeates the calm, "First mate! Your captain requires need of elevation and wild man-strength!"

That too, sounds just as creepy as his smile. But before I can begin thinking about that, loud footsteps echo upon the hollowed walls of the ship. Growing louder, the individual makes its way to the top of the deck and makes his appearance over the edge.

Its body towers far over the railing of this vessel. Thick, brown fur covers every inch of it, while patches of worn, light-brown clothing weaves its way across the chest and legs of the bulky beast. Arms as wide as tree trunks, and legs as heavy as boulders protrude from the torso. However, its face does not bear quite an intimidating presence.

A patch of matted and finely parted fur runs down the back of the neck and down to the head. The fur lightens as it stretches across its face, but darkens again as it runs down to make its beard. Flat and rounded, his nose barely protrudes from his face and connects to apathetic eyes above them. Heavy eyebrows seem to narrow the creature's vision and bring the true sense of uncaring. All and all…it seems like a giant….cowman. _You said that right. He seems a walking cow!_

In a flash the cowman adjusts his shoulders before glancing down to the tiny goblin below. Without hesitating it reaches down. It has no trouble spanning the distance between the deck and the captain, and with a fine jerk, the green figure almost appears to fly into the air. After a second he lands with a mild thump on the wooden surface.

The furry man adjusts his captain, then stands firmly in place. His large eyes ripple an area of focus upon our being. Suddenly he adjusts his shoulders before he snorts again. Fidgeting in his spot, the Captain readjusts his tiny jacket. His hand glides across the top of his head while his teeth shine brightly for all to see.

A high-pitched chuckle crackles from his cracked mouth and he speaks, "Well, my fine, pink and gray fellows, care to jump aboard? My First Mate here will aid you on the magnificent entry of this fine vessel!"

Swinging his arm to the side, he smacks the tall creature in the leg. He spins in his spot, takes off down the long deck and quickly positions himself back at the wheel. Movement from the corner of my eye draws my attention. I watch as Nathanos comes to the side of the ship, grabs the sides of the metal frame and begins to pull himself up. Before the undead man can react, the furry man reaches down, grabs Nathanos' shoulders and swiftly places him upon the deck.

Nathanos appears shocked, but simply glares at the furry man, grunts and peers down to us. Carlin is next, and he too is lifted weightlessly upon the upper platform. Next comes the undead Jon, then next by the slightly delayed positioning of the rather large Mark. Finally, I approach the side and gaze upward.

The ship's edge is a few feet above the edge of the ramp, and from the look of the missing side rails, I am guessing the ship is actually supposed to be level with the ramp. However, this is not of my concern. What is, is getting on the ship.

Reaching to the side, I grab the metal and begin to lift, but just as I ready myself, I feel a firm force wrap around my shoulders. The world suddenly feels light and I find myself almost floating. Sadly, the feeling fades fast as my feet find the surface of the deck with a loud "thud."

It takes me a moment to focus my sight again, and when I do, I hurriedly rotate myself to face the tall creature and then gaze up at him. His eyes gazes apathetically upon me; of course, this might because of the thick, overlapping eyebrows that seem to narrow his vision just slightly.

I cannot help but smile at the man and begin to speak, "Hello." There is a pause before I feel my mouth open once again. "Are you a Tauren?"

At first the creature's facial expression doesn't change. Then, unexpectedly, he snorts loudly, leans back and laughs a deep, hearty laugh. After a moment he composes himself and looks back down at me, "More or less, my boy. Your people say I resemble them, but I am not a member of what you call _Tauren._"

He rocks his shoulders back, clears his throat then continues, "I am a native of the frozen tundra to the north. I am one of the few surviving people of my tribe. I am a Taunk'a!"

Booming, his voice echoes loudly upon finishing that statement. From his stance, I can tell he now holds himself confidently and firmly. Locked with mine, his eyes now scream concern and yell determination.

Raising his head, he gazes back at what I am guessing is the Captain, "I am Fulrin Lugfoot. It is my honor to serve the Captain and this ship."

There is silence. Nathanos shrugs from the corner of my eye while Carlin smiles and nods. As for myself, well, I cannot help but feel a bit motivated after Furlin's speech. _You are driven by it! He is baked by a steak!_

Suddenly, the squeals of the Captain return. "Ah, First Mate, you are always such the story teller!"

Tiny footsteps follow before the Captain comes into view. He oddly twists his body down, raises his arm to the air, and points at Lugfoot with two fingers and his thumb up – almost resembles a gun.

He chuckles then speaks, "We were going to eat him, actually! But, I decided that he was more use then just filling our bellies! Isn't that right, Mista'Fluffy?"

Instantly the Taunk'a's face hardens and he glares at the goblin. He doesn't say anything, but instead attempts to melt the small figure with pure rage. Sadly, that isn't going to work, but, it most likely does make him feel better. _You wish you had heat vision. He could finally cook his own food! _

Out of nowhere, a rather welcome and familiar voice pulls all our focus. The sweet, ringing tone of the beautiful queen flows for all of us to bathe in. "Nathanos, are you ready?"

I spin in my spot and gaze down to her. She stands by the Banshee lady from before and the four soldiers that I had completely forgotten about.

She stands as confidently as ever, and, for some strange reason, she glares oddly at me. I am not certain if she wants me dead or if she simply wants me. _You are full of yourself. He would be more liked if he jumped down to the ground far below._

Nathanos replies a few moments later, "My Queen, my companions and I are ready for departure!"

Instantly she nods, then waves her hands at the soldiers on the ramp, "Go, men, make your stay on that ship."

Without hesitation, the four men move to the metal sides, crawl carefully, yet quickly up the sides, sprint across the wooden platform, and make ready at the small guns positioned on the sides. I then notice two more men run from the main tower, head to the ship, and enter onto the vessel in the same manner. They, however, simply find positions on the ship and stand guard. As they ready themselves, scampering feet and tearing wood fills the air. After a second the noise stops and a short whimpering sound follows. Hesitant at first, Lugfoot peers over the edge, chuckles to himself, leans over and pulls an equally as furry creature on to the deck. Instantly Wriggler yelps and bolts past all of us. In a hurry, the dog shoots down the stairs behind us and out of sight.

A bit angered, the Queen grunts at the Lugfoot before nodding again and gazing up to Nathanos. "Head straight to Thrall, make sure he knows the whole story. Do not leave out a single detail."

Nathanos nods, "Yes, Milady."

Then there is a silence. However, I notice the Banshee nudge the Queen. The tall lady sighs then suddenly speaks. "And try not to die."

Clearing her non-existent throat, the Banshee appears annoyed by the comment. Again, the Queen sighs then talks, "Kill all that oppose you!"

The queen simply gazes at the Banshee, of who glares at the Queen. Almost annoyed herself, the Queen grunts this time then speaks, "Be…eh…careful, gentlemen."

Before the Banshee can even makes a movement, the Queen quickly looks at me and frowns. "Except for you. I hope you get absorbed into the ranks of the Scourge, so that I can find and kill you myself."

The banshee sighs heavily and heads off back into the tower. Following after, the Queen makes her towards the same path, but I cannot help but yell at her before she vanishes down the stairs. "I will be thinking of you too!"

She doesn't reply; instead, she shakes her head and moves out of site.

_PHAWACK_

A sharp pain shoots through the back of my head. I take a second to rub the throbbing location before I turn to my side to see Nathanos glaring at me. He begins to talk the minute I look at him, "You broke her, worm! She is supposed to tell us to die a horrible death, and that she will be surprised to see us again! Not…be careful! Bah!"

Moving quickly, the undead figure heads to the a large opening that leads to the inside of the ship. But before he can make it to it, the Captain blurts out from behind his wheel, "Oh, do not mind Engineer Master Chef Boomer."

I begin walking towards Nathanos, while Carlin begins to talk. "What is an Engineer Master Chef?"

The captain turns a bit then chuckles, "He makes the ship's munitions and its food. Sometimes he makes a spicy meal, sometimes a spicy bomb. Sometimes a bomb meal. Ha!"

He laughs to himself, and then fidgets with some gears and levers near his side. Tilting his head back, he yells, "Mista'Fluffy, make ready to depart!"

The Taunk'a grunts then heads over to a large metallic pillar that connects the balloon to the platform. He begins to mess with some devices there, but I begin to sink into the deck as I head down a flight of stairs.

From ahead, I can hear Nathanos still ranting about the Queen. "Worm, one day, I swear, I am going to hit you with something hard and you won't be able to walk again."

He bends around a corner, but sadly can still be heard. "A smooth talker. Even talking a powerful woman into being polite! What is happening with this world?!"

I turn around the same bend, and gaze down at a large, rather full room. There are dozens of boxes stacked on top of each other. Crates are partially open, revealing rounds of ammunition, guns and other weapons beneath their lids. I definitely understand why this ship is called a Transporter. _You sometimes take a while, don't you? He is just our special friend._

Nathanos moves into a small opening between the crates and leans against the outer wall. I move to the opposite side of the ship, find a spot, and make myself as comfortable as this ship is willing to let me. Carlin flops next to Nathanos, places his shield in his lap and uses his backpack as a pillow. Finally, Jon and Mark rest near the stairs, next to a large door. I am guessing that is where Boomer is, but I have no intentions of disturbing him.

Continuing to rant, Nathanos speaks to himself mostly. I, however, listen to the sudden shouts from the Captain overhead. "Align the shifters! Tighten the ropes! Fill the balloon with more…floaty stuff! Boomer…make me a cheese sandwich!"

A voice echoes from behind the door, "Go make it yourself, you lazy, long-eared hamster!"

There is silence, and then Captain continues, "Fine, no sandwich. Instead, full float ahead!"

Rocking heavily, the ship begins to move. The screaming of metal and breaking wood bounces wildly amongst these hallowed walls and makes all else silent. Thankfully, the sound quickly fades, and is replaced by a mild wafting sound. The ship begins taking on speed, but I really do not notice it. Ok, maybe I do. It is getting faster. Way too fast. _You must calm yourself. He doesn't want to get airsick!_

Breath, Hope, breath. Relax. That is better. As I sit here, attempting to ignore the movement of the ship, I search for distractions. Fortunately, I can still hear the ramblings of Nathanos.

Shifting my attention to that, I suddenly catch something odd. "You two are just alike. You and your father! Always going for the ladies. Even got one of the prettiest girls in town, he did!"

Instantly I shift forward and look at him. He notices me and instantly realizes what he has done. However, I manage to speak before he can even think. "Ok, now it is time to spill it."

Carlin looks over to me, and Nathanos sighs and shakes his head. "Fine, worm, if you must know, I figure it is time to tell you."

He looks at me, opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. I can see Carlin look over to Nathanos then frown, "Well, if the one here doesn't want to say anything, I guess…it will be my job."

The old man adjusts himself, stretches then continues. "Hmmm, where to begin. Ah, yes, Nate Blackwood; son of Richard Blackwood, resident of the Blackwood Lake."

He scratches his chin, "You two were much alike. You have his hair, and facial features. Also, you took into his footsteps very nicely. Well…sort of."

He runs his hand across his bald spot before continuing. "Like father like son. The two wanderers. The two equally as unstable."

He clears his throat. "The two Gravediggers."


	19. Sunny

Carlin fidgets in his place.

Again he moves his fingers across the top of his head before he glances over to Nathanos. The undead figure stares at me; he does not even notice the elderly man looking at him. However, while Carlin stares at Nathanos, I notice him flipping a small object in his hand. It appears to be a dull gold item, with a small gold chain. I am not sure what it is, but he spins it out of what I am guessing is an old habit. I quickly notice Carling shift his vision back to me and sigh heavily.

His eyes drift to the roof and then back to me before he begins to speak, "The two gravediggers. Quite an odd profession, if you ask me, but you and your father took to it rather easily."

Snapping fills the air as Carlin cracks his knuckles. "Both of you acted the same when you did your job. The way both of you went to families in need. The way both of you buried anyone, or anything, that needed a proper grave. The way both of you talked to the bodies despite their obvious lack of response."

He pauses for a moment. "However, there was a difference between you two. And that difference began its surfacing the day we actually met."

Again his eyes shift to the ceiling, but then they quickly fall back to my face, "A good many years ago, I was given the task of the night watch. It was a terrible position, but, I was one to always follow orders, so, like all foolishly noble soldiers, I took to the daunting task regretfully motivated."

His throat is cleared, "The first few nights were dull and tiring; nothing but wild wolvs and careless children., but that second or third week…that was when I began truly enjoying the night."

There is a break. The old man stares off into nowhere and I grow frustrated, "Carlin, what happened?"

Instantly he gazes back at me smiles, "Sorry, was taking in the moment. Anyway, as I sat on the old tower in the northern region, I saw a rather large object moving through the trees. At first, I thought it was a stupid kid, or a large wolf…but whatever it was far too tall to be either."

Anxiety boils below my surface and I cannot help but interrupt, "Was it Bighoof?"

Carlin glares at me and shakes his head. "I will pretend you didn't ask that." He shakes his head before continuing, "Back to what I was saying, the figure shifting rapidly from tree to tree, and was only given away by the rather developed moon overhead."

He leans forward. "Grabbing my sword and shield, I took off down the stairs, through the ground entrance and became overwhelmed by the power of the moon's light that night. After a second I shook it off, bolted quickly, yet quietly towards the trees, and made my way to where I saw the figure last."

Now he begins moving his hands to his tale, the gold figure resting in his palm, "I could easily make my way through the covered fields, and occasionally, the gracious illuminated orb gave me a glimpse at the figure. I kept after it, despite the callings in my head to stop. After a while, I even gave up being silent; cracking and snapping branches wildly. I…just had to follow."

He looks down then back up. "Then, at last, I came to a large opening in the forested area. There, in the middle of the bright gray light, amongst the dully-lit field and bordering trees, stood a small structure. Growing from the structure was a small field of carved stone objects, lined perfectly. Each stone had dark features running across it, and all of these said rocks came together as a graveyard."

Carlin smirks then continues, "But it was not the field of broken lives that caught my attention, oh no. It was the figure resting in the small structure across the opening; that and the other figure shifting through the trees. Sadly, or fortunately, whichever you like, I decided it was then to confront the shifty shadow."

His eyes navigate down then back up, "I remember screaming across the field and waiting for a moment. The figure attempted to hide, but after another yell, it stood upright and headed into the light. A thick, dark green hood rested on a dark face. His entire outfit was green, actually, except for the thick bow resting across his back."

Carlin chuckles slightly, "Standing in the open, the figure tilted his head, grunted, and yelled back at me. It was, if you haven't guessed yet, good old Nathanos Marris."

Nathanos sighs and speaks, "Yeah, the old fool here gave away my position. I was trying to sneak my way around that stupid field to get a better position to watch your father. I was tasked with the boring endeavor of making search on how all the residents of the town were behaving. Stupid rangers, stupidly giving me a stupid task. Jackasses."

Shaking his head, Carlin looks away from him then back to me. "Yes, Nathanos came trotting over to me, said almost the exact same thing before promptly punching me in the face. I responded with a firm head butt, a few jabs then almost buckled to the swift reply from Nathanos' elbow."

I throw Carlin a cock-eyed look, "Wait, you two didn't know each other?"

Instantly Carlin laughs, "No, we knew each other well. Nathanos just didn't like be interrupted, and I didn't like getting punched. Yes, the two of us shared our dislikes for a few moments before your father yelled to us. I remember the words exactly, _Lads, you are disturbing the dead. Come sit at this Gazebo and take in some food."_

Smiling, Carlin continues, "The two of us stopped looked at each other strangely, shrugged and made our way to the structure. We knew the man in the Gazebo well, Nate Blackwood was known by everyone. We didn't even hesitate to eat his food, or begin playing cards with him."

He shakes his head, "Ah yes, those many card games. Night after night we went down just to play cards with that gravedigger, but, two bonuses became the norm which led us to truly return."

Running across his head, his hands make ready for more talk, "Of the two, the first were his stories. Your father could spin a tale unlike any other. The way he just put words together and the way he did it as if it came naturally. So many grand stories, but my most liked involved that Gazebo and was told the same night the second surprise arrived."

Carlin fidgets then continues, "He began with the Gazebo. It was constructed a few months prior to that day for one wedding. The family was rich and apparently large as well. Dozens upon dozens showed up. It was the couples proudest day; the families happiest gathering."

He frowns suddenly. "They succumbed first. Nate pointed to two stones nearest the Gazebo and told us they died together a week after marriage. He said it saddened him greatly to have to bury them. It also saddened him to bury their parents two days later."

Jon coughs then interrupts, "Woah, what happened to them? Was there some sort of murdering spree or something?"

Carlin shrugs, "No, but at the same time, yes. The murderer for the latter would be an illness. It was discovered that the family had grown sick a few days before the wedding. Sadly, when the entire family met they passed the cold to everyone there. Nate told me that the wedding wasn't the last time the family came together. No."

There is a slight pause as the man composes himself, "A two weeks after the couple passed, the entire family line had been buried in that graveyard; not a single member of the tree had not withered. They all came together on that field a second time. Nate buried them there so that they could spend their afterlife where they spent their greatest living moment."

Carlin sighs then smiles, "Despite that sad tale, something good came from it. Just as your father finished, we heard some movement, but before we could react, a small figure appeared at the bottom step. Ruffled hair was matted firmly upon the tiny figure's head while little arms swayed to an unheard beat. The boy, at first, walked to a stone, talked to it, more or less, then returned to us just as quickly."

He nods, "Odd boy, he was, but much hasn't changed. It was you, Hope."

Me? What was I doing out in the middle of the night? Was no one watching me? _You were watched. He was never alone._

Carlin laughs, "Do not concern yourself on why you were there. It was late, and your mother passed out early due to her sickness. You were just curious and made your way to us each night. Rather thankful you did, too. You grew rather attached to me and helped me…win…some rather large card hands."

I, once again, look at him confused, "How did you know I was thinking that? Eh, that I was curious about my late night roaming?"

He shrugs, "It would be the first thing I would think of if I was that young and it was that late. Actually, I am surprised you made it to us in one piece."

Nathanos chuckles then Carlin continues, "Yes, you came every night to join us, and oddly, you took an extreme liking to Nathanos. And, despite everything he says, the stubborn twit took a rather odd liking to you as well."

I can see Nathanos shaking his head before he talks, "No I didn't."

Carlin smirks at him, "You told him you were his uncle. Hell, the boy even made you smile when he showed up. And no, you didn't have random muscle seizures in your face. You were smiling."

Nathanos grunts and shakes his head again. Rocking for a moment, the old man tries to break something from him, but I am the one to speak. "So, you are telling me, Nathanos actually like me? Damn, he actually liked someone?"

A loud grunt fills the air and Nathanos begins to speak, "Ok, will you just continue with the story? I like the tiny runt, he reminded me of me. That is all you are getting, now get to talking. Stupid Worm."

Carlin simply shakes his head, "Unfortunately, the nights of joy and rampant leisure came to an end. It was the last night of my shifts, and I came early to the field to tell them I wouldn't be joining them for a bit. However…when I got there…"

His mouth stays open for a minute. Eyes shoot back and forth in his skull as he searches for something and then he finally speaks, "Oddly, like the first night, the moon lit the entire field with its fullest glow. Unlike the first night, your father wasn't in the Gazebo. No, he stood in the center of the field. At his feet, thick, purple and black lines ran in many directions, while the stones themselves glowed a ominous color."

He leans back, "At first, I did not know what was happening. The ground seemed to tremble, and the soil appeared to move. I foolishly moved forward and gave away my position. Your father spun in his spot. The look on his face still haunts me. His eyes were pitch black. His lips curled to a hideous snarl, and his shovel was firmly in place."

Carlin pauses before continuing, "He marched at an unholy speed across the field. While he did, the words burned into my memory flowed from his mouth; _You dare interrupt the master's work?! You dare trespass on his lands?! All you will receive in return is a spot amongst his plans!"_

He stops to compose himself again, "The speed at which he moved caught me off guard. It was as if he floated across this broken soil. Thankfully, he did not make it to me. A small, slender object hit your father in the shoulder. For a second he stood there, then he looked over at the arrow sticking from his arm and he grunted."

Carlin wipes his hand over his face before continuing, "Nathanos stood a good distance away from his both, but became the target of the aggressor. Your farther lifted his arm, and pointed it strangely at Nathanos."

He leans forward in an obvious manner to show his discomfort, "Exploding from what seemed his entire arm, a cloud of black energy made its away across the field. Stones were lifted, tossed and destroyed as the swirling energy approached Nathanos."

His eyes lock with mine, "He leaped to the side, just barely avoiding the enormous cloud of fire and destruction. Again your father fired, but Nathanos was too quick. The third round, however, landed close, sending Nathanos tumbling to the side. But your father wasn't finished."

Shaking his head, he brings life to his tale, but doesn't lose eye contact, "A volley of three was released from his being. Our young, living friend managed to avoid all of them, but the sheer impact and flying debris of the now wasted field sent him rolling to a rest on his back."

Carlin's voice becomes louder and his tone thickens, "Before Nathanos could recover to his feet, your father was upon him. There he stood, the shovel you carry now, resting in his hands."

He points at the shovel at my side, nods, then continues, "A black haze radiated from said tool, while the jagged point aimed downwards at the unprepared foe. And while he stood there, he yelled down to Nathanos."

There is another pause, and then he lowers his voice to speak, "_You are too late, fool! This feeble family served the master's plan perfectly, just like you will! The plague was willing and your weak race was obviously accepting! And with your death I shall add to the Master's ranks, these lands will fall!"_

The air crackles from his booming voice and then he normalizes, "But it was then the tiny figure entered the scene. You came from the far end of the field, opposite of the terror, but your father new instantly. Fire licked the forest's borders, while craters filled the once flat field. From the distance, the shouts of the town's folks mixed with the crackling of the fire. But none of these drew attention like you did."

His hand raises to point into the air, trying to depict the story at hand, "Instantly your father turned and his weapon lowered. His eyes faded back to normal and his flew open. While he stood there, he spoke gently, but loud enough for us to hear, and while I stood there, helplessly stunned from regrettable fear, I took in his words."

Navigating to the ceiling, he appears to try to remember the words, yet shows a sign of sadness, "_My boy, look how big you have grown. Look how strong you have gotten. Look how proud you have made your old man. I love you."_

He wipes a tear from his eye, whimpers slightly, then continues, "Nathanos easily incapacitated him at that point, and we took him to town. The trial didn't take long. Actually, that next night, right before dusk, your father walked the platform that is death and took to his pedestal."

His eyes aim to the floor, "As he stood there, that cold day, one year exactly before the rise of Kel Thuzad, the most powerful necromancer I have ever come in contact with said one last thing, _At least I created one thing of good in my life. Hope_."

Carlin stops and simply stares at the floor. For a moment there is silence. For a moment the air feels heavier then the crate in my spine. For a moment, we all sit there. Then, like so many times before, a familiar voice breaks the awkward minute.

"What do you mean, Carlin?" I did not even feel my mouth open.

However, Carlin seems distracted by the thoughts in his head, and it is Nathanos who speaks, "He means that…we caught your father and brought him to justice. We were the ones that led to his end. Hope…we hung your father."

I cannot speak. My mouth hangs wide open, but I cannot speak. Carlin finally looks over to me again, but there is nothing for me to say. There is nothing for me to do. My father was put to death by the men sitting before me. _You must not take it too harshly. He must not be angered._

Nathanos speaks again, "Worm, your father was trying to test the plague on the family he buried. He killed them and was attempting to reanimate them. We had to do something. It could not be allowed…"

Words finally slip past my tongue as I interrupt him, "It is not that which saddens me." I look over to Nathanos and then Carlin. "How can I truly be upset over a man I never knew? I am far too thick-headed and easily confused for that. No, what bothers me…"

I take a breath before continuing, "What bothers me is…what if I am exactly like him? What if I turn out like him? Is all I do in life leading to the inevitable event where I embrace the Lich King?"

Carlin's eyes quickly narrow upon me, and he frowns, "Boy, what I forgot to finish in my story was the conclusion to the theme I started." He clears his throat, "The difference between you and your father is when he talked to his voices, he commanded them, yelled at them. You? You talk with them, to them. The difference may be minuet, but is one that I have noticed greatly."

He leans to me, places his hands on my shoulders and gives me a gentle shake, "You are the light behind your entire father's evil. You will never come to his end, at least not because of the Lich King."

At that, he moves back to the boxes behind him, nods, and looks over to Nathanos. Nathanos nods as well, but has to add one last comment, "Like I said, anyone who my dog likes, must obviously be someone worth having around. Worm."

I cannot help but smile at that comment, but my thoughts are broken as I loud screeching sound fills the air. My head whips to the right, and I watch as dull light radiates from behind the door. A small, green goblin emerges, carrying a large tray in his hands. He looks almost exactly like the other goblin on board, except for left ear, which appears to have been damaged in some way.

He coughs twice to get all of our attention, and then he smiles, "What a fine tale. It has been a good time since I have heard stories of heroes and adventurers. Fills my heart with joy to knew there are those fighting to keep the rest of us away from the shadow."

His eyes look down to the tray then to us again, "Sadly, I have no tales of my own, but instead, have strudel made of the finest ingredients for heroes needing a break. Mages got nothing on this."

Walking to Jon and Mark, then to us three, we all take some of his food, and then he talks again. "Oh, sorry if it is gritty. Sometimes my bomb materials find their way into the food. Nothing to worry about, just don't try to eat fire any time soon."

In a hurry, the small figure heads to the door, looks back at us, then heads into his room once again and closes the door. I hold the nicely sized foodstuff in my hand for a second before taking a hearty bite. I chew slowly at first until I realize there is nothing wrong with this delicious item. _You love it! He needs to give me some! Oh…yeah._

Within a matter of seconds I finish the food, and it is as if my entire body relaxes. Even the stress from the recent story fades away, and my eyes feel heavy. They are right; I am nothing like my father. I am not Nate Blackwood. I yawn. No, I am…Hope…

A loud overhead forces my eyes open. I do not even remember closing them, but now I find myself jamming them asunder. I stretch and yawn before instantly realizing something. I didn't have nightmares. Actually, I didn't even dream.

Another loud noise overhead ripples down to us.

This has to be the first time in weeks that I have slept so soundly. I do not know if it was that fine strudel, or maybe…maybe it was the realization of what really happened in my youth. I don't know. _You might not ever know. He may never ever not possibly ever know._

Again the noise fills the air, and this time it wakes Nathanos and Carlin.

Carlin stretches as well and rubs his eyes. Nathanos grunts to himself and says how he doesn't ever need sleep. Stubborn fool. I shake my head at him, and it is then I notice the light floating out of a crack over his head. Actual light! That cannot be.

I look to my left and then to my right. Yes, there are multiple areas where the light seeps its way into this dark hold! It is marvelous! It is fantastic! I must see for myself!

Slowly, I pull myself to my feet and make my way to the stairs. However, just as I reach them, the squeal of the captain's voice rings down to us, "All hands to the deck!"

I stop and turn back. Nathanos quickly darts past me and I feel obliged to follow. I make my way through the bending staircase, and from behind I hear the rest close in pursuit. Nathanos exits, and as I do, the light watches over me like a warm bath.

Except, it burns my eyes!

Rubbing my irritated orbs, I try to adapt to the beautiful sight, but I fail miserably. Of course, I am not going to let something such as pain ruin something so perfect. No way.

I am just barely see the deck before the small man turns to us and laughs. "The warning shots have been fired!"

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulls out a letter and eaves it, "Gray dude, your friends here told me to deliver this to Thrall when we arrived."

Surprisingly, he lets go of it. Gently it floats in the air, past the side of the ship and out of sight. He laughs again and smirks, "I do not think he will be needing it. Ha ha."

Nathanos grunts loudly, but before he can even speak, a voice in the distance interrupts. "Welome to Orgrimmar, have you come to serve the Horde?!"

Nathanos darts to the right side of the ship, beating me just barely. I look over the edge and am instantly dumbstruck. In the distance, is a large, gray wall. Flowing in every direction across the said barrier are black lines that show the use of stone blocks. Wooden spikes protrude from the bottom of the wall, while two, large wooden towers rise into the sky.

The main bases of the tower come to a circular bunker at the top, where various openings allow for archers to shoot from. Back to the main stone structure itself, rows of warriors stand with shields, spears, and staves braced at the ready; most notably is a rather tall, armored figure placed in exact middle of the formation.

He appears to have green skin, is built rather wide and has thick, black hair running from his rather large head. That creature appears to be an Orc, and from his stance and position, I am guessing he is an important figure. _You guessed right. He is Thrall, you twit._

At first I think the figure was talking to us, but unexpectedly, a voice coming from the opposite direction of the wall fills the air, "Victory for Agamaggan!"

Nathanos instantly leaves this side, and I cannot help but follow. In a second we reach the other side, and below is a field of brown, gray and tints of red. As I watch for a second, the entire ground appears to move. Grayish armor rests upon the shoulders of brown men, which, from this distance, have the snouts and features of pigs. _You are correct. He has pointed at the pig-men! _

Also mixed in with the rather unsightly pigs are what appear to be men of half-horse and half man. The flesh on them appears to be naturally brown, but patches of red and white reveal rotting flesh and bones below. This does not seem possible.

Suddenly, a figure on a small rock formation blows deeply into a large white horn. Its deep bellowing roar fills the air for a moment, and then there is a brief silence. Instantly the soldiers below let forth cries and begin raising familiar purple and white banners into the air. They waft gently in the fine breeze, and flutter a dance of destruction as they scream to us their origins.

Then, the same pig man on those rocks turns forward, points and yells loudly, "Forward, brothers, forward! Victory for Agamaggan! Victory for the Scourge!"

At that, the mass of bodies shifts forward, while arrows ripple through the air. I turn and watch as the guardians on the walls reply firmly with a whistle of following death, as their bows pluck a melody for those below.

So, here we are, floating quickly towards the besieged city on the shores of this broken continent. Below moves the army of the damned, built from the broken creatures of this land.

Then, from my side Nathanos grunts and sighs, "Its too sunny."


	20. Down Below

_**Hello all,**_

_**Apologizes for the lateness...well...extreme lateness of this chapter. End of school + last semester = way more papers than I had intended. Also, a poor version of another chapter kept me detoured from completing anything new. All and all, here it is, once again.  
**_

_**Enjoy!  
**_

"Grab a side, boys, we have ourselves a situation!" The Captain tilts the wheel to the right, before adjusting himself, "Bring out the toys, Mista'Fluffy, bring out the toys!"

I hurry to the left side of the ship, and brace myself as the ship makes a sudden jerk. Quickly the vessel arches itself to the right and begins traveling towards the large, stonewall. Loud footsteps echo from below the deck. My ears listen as best they cans, and my hands facet themselves firmly to the railing.

Blood sprints its hurried legs through the tiny passages of my body, sending a surge of warm waves whipping towards my flesh. I attempt to calm my rising and deflating chest, but the speed and constant shaking of the vessel counteract all actions easily. _You need to relax. He just shouldn't look down…wait…no…he should! Ah, he....NOO!_

As if required, my foolish eyes dart downward. Gripping tighter now, I am horrified by what rests below. Stone pillars rise from the natural planet's surface. A massive cliff braces the back of the swarm, and only a small valley in said wall gives for reinforcements to this attack. This, of course, is not what brings me fear. No, what does is sight of what seems like the ground moving.

The army of brown, gray, and red tumbles rapidly at the desired target. Every unit of the mass advances aimlessly, yet charges firmly despite the arrows that break upon their already broken flesh.

Dozens fall to the defenders attack, but where one collapses, three more fill its spot. Their cries rain upon my ears, sending ripples of disgust and horror radiating from my stomach. It almost sounds as if they are gargling some sort of fluid as they let loose their battle cries. _You find that nasty. He feels as if he is going to gargle all of floor soon._

The mob of pigs and decaying horsemen continue their attack almost systemically for a couple more moments, until suddenly they begin to alter their direction ever so slightly. As they move, a gap in middle begins to form, but before I can even begin to think about what is happening, a large object appears from valley behind them.

Wheels churn the dry dirt below it, while they carry a massive block of wood down a well defined path. This cart bounces as it rolls over broken stones and fallen bodies. Chains flutter wildly as they fight to stay attached to the squealing white monsters that bind them to the wooden object. Heavy hooves crack loudly as they crash down. White bones reflect the light almost as perfectly as shined metal. Four legged pigs, left with no flesh or any squishy organ at all, give life to the all but lifeless cart behind them. I have no idea what this new addition as in store, but I am certain it is of no good.

After the first one appears, a second comes into sight a minute later. Pig drawn carts? This makes no logical sense. _You have no idea what is in store. He…actually, I have no idea what is coming._

Rolling forward, they head slowly towards the walls. Oddly, the army does not close behind them as they pass, and I am forced to navigate my attention back to the valley. Again, my eyes find…

_THUMP_

Spinning in circles, my heart attempts to dislodge itself from my chest. My head whips backwards to find what just happened. Instantly I find the large Cowman, and below him rests a opened crate. Without saying a word, he pulls a rod from behind him and very carefully uprights it. Moving towards me, it aims the bottom of the shaft just short of the railing. Slamming it downward, he rams it between two boards of the deck. The said rod shakes, but stands perfectly in place. A dented bowl rests at the top of the rod, and bits of blackened material are inside.

I watch as the first mate reaches into a tattered pocket of his equally as ruined clothes, pulls out a small bundle of sticks, picks one and then suddenly strikes it against the side of the rod. A tiny burst of orange and red erupts from the tip that hit the rod, and vanishes in a flash into the bowl. Flame licks the sky the moment the tiny match lands in the half-spherical object, and like the match, Mista'fluffy vanishes from sight.

For a moment all I can do is stare at the fire that is almost shoulder level to me. It sings quietly to me. Almost as loudly as the cries that comes from below. Wait…the cries, I must see what I missed!

Flinging my focus back to the action below, I move back in time to see a large boulder fly into the air. It soars through the air and disappears out of sight as it moves under the ship. I turn my head to see where it might land, but I cannot make out anything but the massive towers that send clouds of sharp death down to the pig men.

_CARASH_

Rumbling to the heavens themselves, a cry of broken stone fills the air. The boulder obviously found its mark against the wall. I can only hope that it didn't find the damage it was hoping to deal.

Once again I gaze back to the army below, and this time, I get a full view of what released said stone. An abomination of disgusting proportions towers in the sky. Thick, white fur rises from visible gray skin. Patches of white and red reveal a lack of life, while rows of brown lines show signs of undeath. A long, dark gray snout protrudes from a large, stout head that rests almost level with its shoulders.

To the right side rests a bulky arm, but it is not the limb of interest. On the creature's left side, a construct of horror is exposed. Rotting, wooden bones jut in random directions from the entire left side of the monster's torso. It appears as if all of them have no direction, yet, it is plainly seen that all of they converge on a large, circular claw. Splintered and torn, the nails of the hollowed fist clutch the air with relentless hate.

I begin to contemplate the many uses of this disgusting creation, but, as if on queue, three tiny pigmen rush their way to the abomination built of a dozen of these said pigs. All three brace themselves on the sides of a dusty, red rock and together, they drive the projectile into the eager and empty wooden war walker. Once the rock is in place, the three scatter in all directions before the monster begins to move. Arching to its side, the fat and sagging skin shakes as it comes to proper position.

Then, with all the might of hatred and rage, the abomination spins its body forward, letting the wooden limb lead. Tumbling through the air, the once calm stone changes its mood to a death tone as it rockets forward.

_CARASH_

Again the sounds of broken stone fill the air before the cries of war take over. I watch as the tiny pigs scurry back to the pillars, grab another rock, and begin their waddling walk back to the gray stalk. As I watch these filthy creatures, I take in the sight of what appears to be three or four more of these skulking siege machines. _You cannot believe how many there are. He…ugh, they are nasty things._

"What are you lazy lads waiting for? An invitation!?" The Captain's voice pierces the air, "Less gawking, more blasting!"

I turn in a hurry and gaze over to the tiny goblin. He turns back to us, waves his hand in an odd fashion before looking back forward. I have no idea what that was supposed to mean, but I catch sight of Nathanos just barely from the corner of my eye. Leaning towards the previously ignored crate, he pulls out a small, black sphere, rocks it in his hand, and then shoves part of it into the flaming bowl.

A slight sizzling sound fills the air as an unnoticed fuse begins to spark down towards its mark. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sends the tiny object over the edge and out of sight.

_BRURSH_

The ground bursts into a torrent of squeals, screams, and a rumbling explosion. Altering my focus, I peer into the mass below, and feel my stomach turn. Broken limbs rain from the sky. Torn flesh wafts in the gentle, cold breeze. Bodies lay shattered near the charred crater of the impact spot. I am only allowed a moment to gaze into this unsettling sight before the monsters quickly the gap.

Unsightly, yet deserving. _You know what that means? He needs to start playing! _

Turning around, I reach into the crate, grab hold of an oddly heavy ball, tilt it towards the flickering flame and wait for the spark. Once signaled by the crackling, I look over the edge, and very carefully throw it away from the ship and down to the ground below.

Spinning end over end, the tiny bomb plummets in a hurry. Small orange specks float from what seems like all ends of the death device. Hitting the top of a pig's head, the small object bounces into the air before vanishes into the pack. Nothing happens. Do you think it fai…

_BRURSH_

An orange dome, matted with streaks of black powder and white sparks, ripples outwards from the bomb landed. The air turns into a solid barrier that knocks back anything in its path. Horsemen flip through the air, while pigmen are all but vaporized. Once again, the sky is filled with the signs of war.

_BRURSH, BRURSH, BRURSH_

Lighting up, the field becomes a source of fireworks and mighty explosions. A thick dust of red, and a black cloud rises into the air. Black scorch marks riddle the field now, but even with that the numbers of this army do not even seem to have been dented. It just doesn't seem possible. Each explosion…

_BRURSH_

Each explosion takes out over a dozen soldiers, but the minute those few fall two dozen take their place. My eyes scan the entire field, and all there is are warriors of the Lich. The only gaps in the vast sight are the ones for the carts being dragged by the skeleton pigs.

Wait, I almost forgot them. It seems that the two have broken from the main road, and are now headed in opposite ends towards the walls. They are nearing the stone protector, and despite the many arrows in the carriers' backs, there seems to be no stopping them.

In a few moments the carts begin to align themselves and they slow. The ship shakes and begins to rock as I feel a slight turn to the right. It becomes harder to see the carts, but from this view I can still make out one.

Almost coming to a stop, the cart waits for something, and as it does, a large clearing is made for it. Then, emerging from the masses, a lone figure, clad in the armor worn by so many lost soldiers, appears. It walks up to the side of the cart, nod its head then laughs.

Raising his hand into the air, the Deathknight cackles wildly then screams into the air, "Spirits of death, wanderers of lost lives, minions of the dark, heed the call of the true king!"

Flashes of pink and black erupt in the sky. Each said flash ripples wildly before slamming firmly into the ground below. Suddenly, the soil pulsates and a shockwave rips the once peaceful plot. Then, like many times before, the surface of the soil breaks. White figures of the once living begin to tear themselves of skeletons bursts upwards. Within seconds they have released themselves from their dirt prisons.

The rather approving deathknight laughs. This time, however, he points at the cart and waves his hand, "Hear the King's command! Let it guide you to the death of these living fools! Now, unite! Build a tower into the sky! May it not escape even our King's eye!"

Without hesitating, the thin soldiers rush towards the cart. The first one climbs into position, and then another. As they clamber around the sides, more pink and black flares explode into the ground followed by more emerging skeletons. I watch in horror as each no addition hurries to the cart, and climbs into position. Legs lock with skulls. Arms merge with knees. Every skeleton adds to the height of the cart, and each one creates a barrier. What in the world?

"Siege tower!" A voice from below catches my attention.

Whipping my head, I am startled by the massive wooden structure on the side of the ship. It seems that we have begun to enter the city, and that we are now passing by the mighty towers themselves. From here, I can make out the green men below. Hurriedly they rush across the walls and take aim at the approaching machine.

I attempt to look back to see where the cart is now, but we have moved too far into the city, and now the walls block the view. Unfortunately, even as the army fades into a stone barrier, I begin to see something appearing just over the tall wall's edge.

The siege tower.

It continues to stretch upwards and continues to advance forwards. Within moments, the siege tower and walls near each. Cries from the orcs echoes upon the valley walls of this city. Shields line up in front of the mobile skeleton vehicle, while arches futilely fire in a frantic attempt to slow the siege.

_CARASH_

Slamming against the wall, the entire valley seems to quake. In a flash, the upper portion of the skeleton structure crumbles and collapses. The bones clank together, building the once fallen bodies of the skeletal warriors. Orc soldiers slam the leaping frames, but a few slip past the mighty men. Blades slash against flesh, but the mediocre strikes do nothing but enrage the beasts. It doesn't take long for the orcs to dismantle the bulk of the attackers. Unfortunately, the path as been made, and the scourge forces continue to pile onto the wall.

"Weee, first time I have had the pleasure of flying over a city! Whoopie!" Once again, the high-pitched tone of the Captain draws my attention.

I twist my body to look at him, but the sight below is something I cannot bare to miss. Red rooftops cover the tan and brown walls of many fine buildings. Yellow stone paths give definition to the architecture while they navigate the fleeing populace. As I shift my eyes upwards, I notice that there are actually two stories to the entire city.

Directly below us is what appears to be the main part of the grand city. All paths lead northward towards a naturally closed section of the mountains where the bulk of the city is built into. Campfires flare gently in the calm breeze, but are occasionally stirred by the stomping orc women and children.

Most of these said fleers head into the closed mountains, while other head upwards into the second portion of the city. Connected directly to the lower portion, the upper plateau is only accessible by a small tower that is constructed into the inner-city wall, and by a rope bridge found by a towering structure directly ahead of us.

Both paths are filled completely, leaving only the weak cries and shouts of the disgruntled families. _You are disgruntled. He needs to stop worrying about these people._ Why? What else am I supposed to be worried about? _You…eh…well. He…um…what about us? He needs to remember we are here too_. Ah, shut up.

A sudden jerk and a change in direction relieve me of the two fools inside my head. I look over to Nathanos for a brief second then over to the captain. He spins the wheel to his right, grabs, stops, turns it some more, stops, and then slaps his hands on the top of it. His head tilts to the side before he looks straight down. For a second he stares directly at something before strangely nodding.

At that he looks upright, turns the wheel some more to the right and…then wiggles his body in an awkwardly confusing manner. _You can say that again. He thinks that goblin is a strange one._

A voice near me breaks my stare, "Worm, like I said, you attract like minds."

I do not even bother looking over to Nathanos. I sigh and then frown as I continue looking forward, "That's good, I figure you like me, so, might as well bring more of the same."

Now I glance over to him, and I instantly find his glaring eyes. He simply shakes his head before switching his sight to the ground below. I cannot help but join him, and I look just in time to see as we enter the upper part of the city. There are not many buildings in this part, but just ahead I can make out a few oddly made wooden structures and a small, shallow pool of water.

Standing near the wooden rods that give the buildings height, is a figure on a raptor. The creature is a fine golden color with streaks of dark red and black that commingles perfectly with the dominant color. Thick, silver armor rests on the top of the tail and on the sides of the legs. The same metal rests on the raptor's red, but three large golden spikes run down the metal of the mount's crown. Resting on top of the beast is a troll – I know this simply because of the many rotting ones I felled at my homeland. _You are talking to…who? He is talking to us? No, he is talking to his other voices._

Long, thin legs are covered in a black leather; the same that rests on the vast majority of his body. His arms hold firmly to the steed's reins, while thick, wooden shoulder plates hold him in a properly slumped position. Long, blue hair sticks straight into the air, while protruding tusks and ears of equal length long give the creature its unique definition.

In a second we begin to head over the troll. As we do, the figure looks up to us and shouts loudly, "Mon, I do not know who ya be, but I don't care. We need ya to'get over to dem gates! We done got reports an army be heading to dat wall!"

Instantly Nathanos chuckles and replies, "Vol'Jin, my good sir, you seem to be preoccupied. Is there something wrong?"

The troll hesitates before responding. He rocks on his raptor before frowning and spitting, "Marris, Mon, I hate ya! Get ya rotting butt over to dat wall! Dere be no time fo'ya arrogance, mon!"

Again, Nathanos laughs, "Terribly sorry, Vol'Jin, my ego is only earned by my complete competence and the complete incompetence of others!"

Steaming forward, the Zeppelin passes by the pool area and barrels around a bending path. Below, the troll named Vol'Jin hurries to stay directly below us. The beast he is carried by moves faster than anything I have ever seen before. Well, maybe except for this engineered craft, but this doesn't count.

Coming into sight, the wall the troll spoke of is revealed. It is far smaller than the other one, but that is because the gap in the canyon only leaves for a very narrow passage. Like the other one two, massive wooden towers jut upwards at an insane height.

Warriors have found their places atop the walls and towers themselves, and as we near them, we quickly find the prefect place to navigate through them both. It doesn't take long for us to reach the wall, and very carefully the captain aligns the vessel to make it through the small opening. My heart begins to race, but there is nothing to worry about.

Suddenly the goblin laughs, "This reminds me of the first crash I had. Woooieee, that was a crazy one. Haha, yeah,"

Ok, that is not something I wanted to hear. But it's going to be alright. Yes, we are heading towards the towers. Just breath, we are passing through them perfectly. _You need to relax. He knows there is nothing…_

_CARASH_

The right side of the Zeppelin screams loudly; bits of wooden debris crack from the tower and float onto the deck. I grab the railing with insane force. My breathing increases, my chest now a tornado of action. After a second, the screeching stops, and just as quickly, we are away and floating out of the city.

That wasn't so bad.

"Oh no, a cliff! We are going to die!" The goblin screams wildly.

He spins the wheel to the right, lets it run its full course, and then grabs it. Turning sharply to the left, he slows the ship down.

Laughing he turns back to his us and throws his head back, "Gotcha!"

Without thinking I open my mouth, but my rage is quelled by the sounds from below. From this side, I can barely make out a small bridge. Below it is a river, and from this height I can tell the distance between the river and the bridge is extreme. However, what is truly important are the creatures now scampering over the wooden, arching pass.

Dozens of ghouls, skeletons, and abominations begin their attack. The boney warriors and the fleshy soldiers make if over the pass with ease, but the blobby monstrosities seem to be having difficulty; of course, the arrows making their homes in their bodies are not making it easy.

"Kill dem all! Break dem weak bodies! Break dem bones!" Behind us, the call of Vol'Jin rings loud in the air.

I make to turn to see him, but, it is then I see a figure on the hills the stupid goblin yelled about. Resting on the large, slopping hillside is a dark man clad in dark blue and black armor. Like so many others, chilled air seeps from his frozen lungs and matches that of his icy heart. This one is different, though. Yes, this one is familiar.

This one has a face riddled with scars.

The vehicle heads in an arching movement to the left, but my head stays locked on this figure. Standing alone, he watches as his troops fill across the small, natural passages below. Yellow grass is trampled by his minion's feet, while puffs of dry dirt drift into the air.

Slowly he raises his blade forward and moves his pale purple lips, "Break down the gates! Maim the living! Bring death to those blinded by life! Bring them the glory of the Scourge!"

Instantly following his short speech, a pulse of pink energy explodes from a black cloud around his hand. Striking the ground, the bolt brings movement to the stable soil below him. The soil quivers. The protruding limbs quake. He simply waits; waits until he gains sight of the figure floating just overhead.

It takes him all but a moment to take complete focus on this vessel. Without wasting a second, he pulls him blade in our direction and yells, "Minions! Archers! Dealers of Deadly Magics! Give our friends in the sky a taste of the King's might!"

The skeletons that emerge hurriedly from the soil and brace themselves on their new found legs and gaze upwards. Bones shuffle against bones. Torn, worn cloth rustles. Bows creak loudly as they are readied to strike.

Sadly, as we continue to move, the sight of the Scarred Knight vanishes, while the main pillar to the balloon blocks all ahead. However, Carlin pulls himself below the side of the deck and shouts back to us, "Incoming!"

Aged strings ping a melody of unbalanced proportions. Weak explosions erupt for all to hear. Then, all that remains is the sweet hum of arrows and the unnerving pounding of crazed hearts.

Silence

_Ting, ting, ting_! Wooden sticks bounce futilely against the side of the ship. _Thump, thump, thump_! Others slam into the softened wood around us. A few even slice the flesh and armor of the ones manning the guns. Sadly, their bodies weaken before slumping into a pile on the floor.

The ship shakes as explosions of fire and frost ripple into nothingness at the sides. All of us huddle low and pray that none of these said projectiles find their mark on us. _You pray for all of us! He might even pray into his pants! You don't even make sense! He doesn't care! _

Interrupting my thoughts, the captain takes over, "Brace yourselves, scaredies! Poppa is thrusting this baby into overdrive! Whooieee!"

Creaking loudly, the ship speaks to us a tale of misfortune and undesirable actions. The engine shakes and shifts before bellowing. Then, with a swift jerk, the ship rocks forward and I can feel the pace quicken. _You can also feel your stomach churning. He…is even making me sick._

My hands almost crush the wood I am gripped on. I cannot look up. Hell, I cannot even open my eyes! They are pressed so tightly together I think my eye lids my stretch to ripping! It is almost impossible to tell if the enemies are even hitting us still, the engine, and my heart are so loud. It is still accelerating!

I hate Zeppelins!

Shaking far more violently, the Transporter Four feels as if it is going to fall apart as it flies. It is obviously certain that this ship was not made to travel this fast. Even the railing makes motion to suggest it is going to detach from the ship involuntarily.

I really hate Zeppelins!

There is a quick jerk to the right. Following fast is a maddening change to the left. My head bangs against the wooden wall to my side, but I cannot feel it. Even the force from my hands is numbed. I do not care, I just want to stop going so damned fast! _You said it. He…AAAHHHH._

And then it does.

Losing grip, my weakened fingers slip as the rest of my body slides forward. Flesh on my shoulder jolts backwards and turns warm as it slams into the rod to my side. Fortunately, said pole apparently also keeps me from moving another further. I take a moment to relax myself. Very carefully I revel in my surroundings.

We have slowed.

I do not move, but instead gain complete bearing of myself. Opening my eyes, I notice first my hands on the pole and that my head is insanely close to both. Moving my head away, I jerk it side to side and check to see if everyone is alright.

The Chapel Brothers struggle to upright themselves, while Carlin faintly braces himself against the same railing across from me. His eyes seem partially glazed, and from his facial expression I can tell he is not all there at the moment. However, he is still alive, and that's plenty.

Before I can even shift over to the last member of our party, his voice booms far louder than desired, "What is wrong with you all? Don't you have any need for speed in you?" He chuckles and peers down over the ship, "Bunch of sissies!"

Nathanos' words do nothing to cease the banging of the drums that rattle against the seemingly hollow walls of my skull. I try to respond to him, but my mouth simply hangs open. He glances over to me, chuckles again, and then pulls himself against the railing.

So badly I do I wish to call him a serious of insults and names, but there is nothing that escapes the daze filling my abyss. _You should just bite him! He has his mouth open, take a chunk out of his face…errr, never mind._

Fortunately, it is Carlin to be the one to reply to Marris, "Sorry to disappoint, Seeker of Double Deaths, but not all of us enjoy the concept of outrageously fast machines and canyon walls like you."

In response Nathanos throws his head back and simply chuckles. He makes as if he is about to say something, but instead shakes his head and gazes back over the side. Now curious, I cannot help but glance to see what he is so fascinated about. You need to watch your face!

Pulling backwards I am just barely able to dodge the flickering fire of the now partially bent pole. It leans a bit towards Nathanos, but I appeared to not have struck it hard enough to do too much damage. Ignoring it once again, I return to what I was doing.

Down below, I can see the army of the pig men once again. Their sickening, gray fur still stirs with the continuous brisk breeze. Flesh dangles weakly from decaying bone while hooves crack and shatter the dirt unfortunate to be beneath them.

Just as before, rocks fly from the unseen blobs, while skeletons climb up the already existing siege towers. Sadly, amongst all these pigs and centaur scourge, I can make out two new pairs of boney boars, and two large carts tailing behind.

They have sent in two more siege towers! There is no way the warriors on the walls can hold back four sources of vertically scaling monsters! How are we going to stop these creations of the damned? Arrows are useless, and bullets do equally as little. You should remember the pain in your shoulder. He should take advice from Nathanos.

Gazing hurriedly to my side, I watch as a gray sphere comes into sight and then quickly changes into a blur. It arches forward, just ahead of the ship and disappears below the front of the hull. Nathanos pulls himself over the edge a bit and rocks his body in anticipation.

_BRURSH_

Flames and black smoke wafts into sight and the signs of broken dead fills the air. Oddly, Nathanos seems disgruntled by the explosion, "Blast it all! There is no way I am going to be able to hit that crummy cart from this insidious elevation!"

A high-pitched wail followed by an equally as piercing voice takes over, "Ohhh, hate how high we are, eh? Displeased by safe travel, huh?! FINE, Skippy sees how it is!"

Exactly as I turn to look at the Captain, he points back at me and barks, "You, clumsy one, get over here!"

Clumsy one? What have I done that is clumsy? _You need to worry._

Skippy's wail returns, "Lad, do I need to bring my small body over there and carry you like a sack of useless gnome skulls?! Move!"

Confused by why he is talking about gnome skulls, I regretfully pull myself to my feet and instantly feel a surge of pain shoot through my foot. _He is definitely clumsy, stepping right into that crate._

Limping half-heartedly forward, I try to regain my dignity while I make it towards the Captain. As I near him, he points his hand to his left. It vibrates strangely in the air as it points at a rope at the side.

He begins to speak, "Grab this dangling cord and using the metal clamp…clamp it on the main deck. Hurry, chop, chop!"

Gripping the rope, I let the dry, tough strand dangle in my hand. I reach for the bottom end of the rope, and grab hold of a metal hook, that seems to break at the middle to allow for an opening. With it at the ready, I continue on with my work.

Bending down, I notice two objects. Near the front of the ship is a small, metallic ring with a rope tied to it. Said rope seems to connect directly to the balloon overhead. The other object is a circular wheel, with a small-arching ring sticking from the top. I have no idea what it is, so I simply ignore it.

Reaching forward, I aim for front ring with the rope but the Captain's voice returns, "No, no, the other thing!"

Pausing for a second, I change my focus back to the once ignored wheel and aim for it. Squeezing end of the rope, I wait until part of the circle collapses inside, turning part of the hoop into a hook. Hesitantly I slide the hook into the wheel, let go of it and watch as hoop returns to original state of being.

Instantly Skippy whistles and pokes my head, "Good job! Now, same with the other side. Hurry, clamp, clamp!"

Without wasting a moment, I shift behind the goblin, reach upwards, grab the rope, and repeat the process exactly like before. The hook slides perfectly into position, and with that, I stand back up.

The captain says nothing to me. I am not sure what I am supposed to do now. _BRURSH, BRURSH, BRURSH._ Explosions draw my attention. Shifting my stance, I forget all about what just happened and make it back to my spot at the side of the ship.

Just as I reach the wall, the Captain bursts into laughter and yells once again, "Misssssss-ta, Flufffff-ey! Prepare for Maneuver Fishhook! Action Face to Floor! Operation….Look-out-below!"

A loud thump fills the air, startling me. I spin to see a crate resting behind the one I stupidly trip over, and a shaking, furry individual. The look on his face does nothing to hide what he is showing from his body. His eyes are struck wide open, while his mouth rests wide open. He stays his way for a moment before reaching his right hand out and gasping.

Taking a step back while standing in that odd manner, he grips the railing leading down below and finally speaks! "Noooooo!"

Ok, that was more of a yell, but, from the sounds of it, I am guessing it isn't good. Doesn't sound good at all. _You said it. He…might want to grab the railing as well._

Operation Look-Out-Below? Doesn't sound too bad.


	21. Skies Above

_**All I did here was split chapter 18 into two parts. They are exactly the same, so if you have already read them, there is no new information. The length was just way too much, and in the future, I will rename the chapter 18 and 19. But for now, to keep confusion low, I will simply have it as two different parts for chapter 18.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

"Let us move forward togeth….ah, forget any talk'n mumbo jumbo! Let it be done!" Scattering the void of orcish and pig war cries is the one and only Captain's Skippy's call.

Without wasting a second he reaches forward and grabs a small, unseen lever behind the wheel. Jerking it down, the rod roars in agony as it slides smoothly into place. A short-lived screeching sound bounces across the inside of the ship. There is a brief moment of silence and then metal cracking fills the void.

Ahead of me I notice the set of ropes I just dealt with begin to shake. Following it down, I divert my vision to the deck of the ship and where I had attached the woven cables.

From here, I can tell that the metal wheel is spinning slowly in its place. As it spins, the slack on the once hanging rope begins to lessen, becoming tighter and tighter each cycle.

Finally the rope hits a sudden snag in its length and all of it stops; despite the fact the the metal circle is still attempting to make its rotations. Suddenly, a loud snapping noise erupts from the front of the deck and a blur of gray whips upwards. The once secure metal hoop from the frontal portion of the deck now whirls wildly into the air.

My eyes follow the quick object as best they can, but they lose focus to another sight just overhead. I had not noticed it earlier, but now I make out another circular object hanging just below the massive, purple ellipse.

It looks exactly like the now spinning wheel on the wooden deck, except this one is larger. A multitude of ropes from the side railings run through this object before connecting to the balloon. Actually, all the ropes of the back and front of the deck run to this small device.

I am not sure what this is supposed to be, but I am certain it is some sort of pulley device. _You definitely now your instrumental constructs. He has too much spare time on his hands._

_CAH-TING_

Metal clashes against metal. Sparks sprinkle softly in the air. Ripples of action shoot through the deck around us. Whatever happened is now complete. The pulley system seems to have stopped. Both wheels, on the deck and in the air, have ceased all activity. Wait, no, the one floating freely is moving again.

Both sides of the object spring outwards to form what appear to be two small circles. Oddly, they begin to rotate forward then backwards. As they do, the ropes above and below quiver and quake gently. After a few seconds they too stop, and we are all left in silence.

Sadly, the Captain chuckles weakly and turns back to us, "Ok, boys, get ready for the ride of your lives!"

Not a moment is wasted. Reaching forward with his other hand, the goblin grips another tiny lever, thrusts it up, back, up again, then towards him. There is a slight pause and then he laughs again.

His head stays straight forward, while his hand hovers on the lever, "Brace yourselves; we are heading to floor1; Pigs, Horsemen and skeletons!"

Shooting down, the lever locks in place and instantly the pulley overhead vibrates. In a flash it spirals straight up and slams into the balloon. Behind I hear screeching metal, and creaking up. I glance back for a moment and watch as the main support beam rotates around a metal guiding built into its base.

My legs begin to grow heavier, and instinctively I grip the railings. _You need to grip that stuff harder! He must grab it, grab it as hard as you possibly can! _Nathanos grabs the side of the ship as well.

The entire ship seems to tip. The captain squeals loudly. Screeching, the ship screams for us to hear. Unfortunately, my heart is far too loud for any of the wails to reach my mind.

Falling forward, the entire Zeppelin front seems to disconnect from the balloon. Plummeting down, the ship spins upon an unseen axis. Gravity is gone. My legs are as light as a feather. The world wafts upon a wiry set of hope. All strength and support comes from the ropes behind us. We are falling. The front of the ship is falling straight down!

I feel sick. My arms grow numb. My mind wanders yet focuses completely. Inside, my stomach twists itself and prepares a procedure of speedy withdrawal. This forces my mouth shut and my tongue up. I cannot make sense of it all. _You are having a belly full of problems! He is gonna puke!_

_CAH-TING_

Slamming against the deck, sense returns to my back -- it also returns to my shoulders, neck, head and legs. Bolts of intensifying pain burst through my limbs and travels into the back of my skull. Wood begins to scrape against my back, and, without hesitation, I grip the railing, ignore the surging shots of agony and peer forward. Actually, in this case, I am peering down more.

My feet rustle against the deck as they attempt to find a firm grip, but the sloping ship makes that impossible. The wooden crate slowly glides towards the captain, but slams into an opening in the railing and stops short of the front of the deck. A few bombs bounce from inside and escape into the grip of gravity.

Nathanos continues to hang firmly on his railing, while the sounds of disgruntled Chapel Brothers and an angry Carlin shatter all focus. Unfortunately, only the cackles of the craze captain can be fully understood. "Get ready for impact! This is gonna knock the wind out of you. Hell, you might even loose a few brain cells or two!"

Again, he reaches forward, but this time he grabs a bar resting on the top of the wheel's stand. Giving it a swift yank, the ship creeks and the pulley whistles again. Falling from the balloon, the metal object shoots down, and slowly creeps back into its original place. The purple mesh rocks, and if my eyes are not fooling me, it appears as if balloon is moving.

My eyes focus in then out as it tries to make out if the balloon is truly changing its location, but from this view I cannot tell. Looking back at the Captain, I watch as the front of the balloon comes into alignment with the deck again. I am now certain that it had moved. _You could be wrong. He could just be imagining things. Yeah, you could be dead. He knows that he isn't dead; otherwise how could we still be talking to him?_

Ignoring the voices, I continue to gaze down the sloping wooden platform. The front of the ship aims towards the ground. Ahead, the once tiny figures of gray and brown quickly become larger meshes of filthy fur and rotting flesh. Faster now, the entire army seems to shrink, yet the individual pieces of said force grow.

Faster, each figure begins to gain an unique set of features. Faster, we are nearing the ground! Fastest, we are going to slam into it! Then, as if the Captain had heard my thoughts, he grabs the wheel and leans back slightly.

Turning his head back to us, but keeping his focus forward, he shouts, "Mista'Fluff-ee, adjust the tail-flaps! Ninety rise to a thirty slant!"

I have no idea what he just said, but, from the slow-paced footsteps of a stumbling creature and the sudden screech of metal, I am guessing the Taunka did. At first the sound comes from inside the ship. After a second, it travels upwards and makes its way to the back. Turning my head, I catch sight of a large, bladed sheet of metal jutting from our side.

Twisting my body a bit further, I can make out the same object on the opposite side. Both of them seem to be aiming upward a bit, letting the lower part of its curved structure aim at the ground. Both seem to vibrate gently, which I figure is due to their odd state of being and extreme force needed to make it that way.

Despite my astute observations dealing with the duel blades, I had neglected to notice the sudden decrease in speed. Once again I look back to the Captain. We are extremely close to the mass of merciless monsters. Fortunately, the ship has begun to pull up. My feet slowly gain bearing on the floor again, but, I cannot help but feel a strange surge of anxiety. I do not think we are slowing down fast enough. _You think right! He better not let go of that railing! _

The ship continues onward towards the ground. Rooters on the rear attempt to stop its advance, but they don't seem to be working. Heads of pigs and limbs of the dead are in perfect view.

Out of the corner of my eye I watch as the Captain reaches down to his side, grabs a small pair of goggles, raises them to his face, and with a gentle snap, rests them over his eyes.

Looking back at us, he lets loose a volley of his shiny pearls and talks, "We are going in REALLY fast. Not that I planned it, but, hell, might as well go in with a bang!"

Chuckling, he looses composure for a second then continues, "Boys, hug yourselves for your momma ain't! We are gonna ram'em!"

That first sentence doesn't even make….RAM THEM?! Ram them?! What does he mean ram them_?! You can see the ground ahead. He acts as if this is some sort of surprise. Wait…oh…damn._

_CA-RRASH_

My body feels light again. I float gently in the air. Instantly that feeling ends and a sudden jerk of pain rushes through my body. Bouncing once more, I rise and fall once more as the ship shakes violently. Fingers slide from the railing as my back now bears the bulk of my body. Tilting my head to the side, I watch as Carlin crawls upon the creaking floor.

Muffled squeals of squashed warriors fill the air. A light hum reverberates in my skull. Slowly I can gain control of my limbs, and very carefully I grip the railing and begin to pull myself up. Ringing fills my head, while my eyes dart dumbly back and forth.

Stomach muscles twist and turn as my eyes gain a true grasp on what is resting before us. Fields of fur and matted hair rises into the sky like an unholy crop of damnation. The once seemingly small skeleton boars march just yards away from the side of the ship, while their cart barely avoids the front end of the ship.

We are plowing full steam into the heart of this force. And from the actions and sudden looks in our direction, we have been noticed. Every pig men and centaur anywhere near our location diverts their current path and begins a charge at us. Fortunately, the Zeppelin still moves quickly, despite the bodies blocking our advance.

I peer over the edge. At the sides of the ship, broken soldiers cling helplessly to the metal sheets. Limp warriors fall to the ground as the ship crushes the unlife from them. Others, however, reach angrily at the hull. Hands are shredded as the speeding cruiser causes the metal to slice easily through the fleshy appendages. Sadly, a few manage to grip on, but they simply dangle uselessly.

A sudden jab in my shoulder draws my attention. Quickly jerking my head, I notice Nathanos next to me. Instantly my eyes change to see him holding a small gray object in his hand. As it rests there, I cannot help but smile. Nathanos is always so thoughtful; thinking of his troops and enemies simultaneously.

I grab the bomb from his hand and look back forward. Ahead, the cart pulls away from us. Its deathknight seems to have hastily gathered the skeletons for it; the boney warriors sprint to keep up with the cart they were destined to be placed upon. A good distance away, the walls of the city hold back the might of this march. Sadly, the older siege tower still hold firm. _You do not like this! He hates these filthy creatures!_

_BRURSH, BRURSH, BRURSH_

Explosions ring from behind me. I do no have to look to know our friends our the creators of that catastrophe. Instantly Nathanos' voice follows the echoing eruptions, "Worm, I believe these towers are nicely constructed. I also believe it is our duty, as the horde, to test out that said strength."

I turn to him and smile, "I will take the closer one, and you will aim for the one at the wall."

Nathanos chuckles, sticks the fuse into the fire and looks out in the crowd, "My thoughts exactly. Now, worm, let us bring some excitement into these pig's lives!"

Aiming, Nathanos takes his time. I, however, stick the fuse into the fire, let the sparkling wool burn brightly for a just a second, and then arch backwards. The bomb's weight is greater than I imagined. Fuel within rocks my hand as I steady myself. Pulling my arm forward, I focus all my might, all my energy, all my direction at the cart nearest to us.

Floating in the air, the bomb easily escapes my grip. It tumbles end over end for a few seconds before falling fast to the ground. Bouncing off the front end of the cart, it misses its misses the target I aimed for, but instead fines one even better. You done good. He can throw!

_BRURSH_

White fragments shoot in all directions as the bomb ignites the boars. The skeletal pig on the right is instantly vaporized. Skidding uncontrollably to the left, the other pig breaks apart as it looses all its sinister strength. Finally, the cart's front end lifts upwards. It stands vertically for a brief second. There it decides which way to fall. It decides which way to end. It decides where to land. And, luckily for us, it chooses going backwards; making the cart officially useless.

Suddenly Nathanos laughs and speaks, "Good show, worm, good show!"

His eyes switch over the small bomb and the equally as tiny fuse, "As for this one, well, that tower is a great distance away. Looks like I will need some help!"

Swinging his body forward, he lets the orb fly high. The fuse appears to be nearly burnt out as is spirals around and around, but even that doesn't keep it from reaching a good distance in the air. Finally it finds its final height, then, very slowly, it starts its descent down. As I stand here, I can tell it will not reach its target. _You can see that easily. He can see Nathanos needs a new pitching arm._

Tumbling downward, it aims for a patch of pigs a short distance from the cart. There is no way it will reach it. Nathanos put too much arch into the throw; he should have thrown it more directly! _You suddenly are the master of physics, eh? He knows all about trajectory and explosives now. _

After a short moment, it spins into the crowd. I expect it to vanish into the pack and to leave in its wake a dome of destruction, but…it doesn't. Right when it reaches the horizon of the mindless horde before us, it finds a pig, collides with its feeble head, and then bounces into the air. Spinning once again, it only gets a few feet, but, it is all that it needs.

The tiny bomb clips the corner of the cart, rolls forward, and disappears behind the wall of white. I wait for a few seconds and cannot help but smile. Strangely, nothing happens.

A loud grunt erupts from my side, "You have go to be kidding me!" Nathanos stomps the already quaking ship, "A dud?! How in the world did I get…"

_BRURSH_

White shrapnel ricochets in all directions. Chunks of torn wood shoot into the air. Suddenly the right side of the tower creeps down. Pulling with it the left side follows quickly after. At the base, skeletons scamper to support the already debased structure. It begins to slow as the boney bulk begins to gain control. The orcs, however, feel that the tower is in fact ready to fall.

Balls of fire explode into the toppling side, while arrows crippled any single skeleton they can find. Bone fragments rain down. Screams of shattering skeletons and failing architecture fills the air; the sounds equal that of a demolished building even. The side continues to splinter, until, finally, the entire ride side cracks and crumbles.

Then, for all to see, the mighty tower of bone vanishes to the ground; leaving only an array of white dust, crushed marrow, and smashed pigs. Following shortly after the rumbling collapse is a mesh of grunts and cries. My eyes divert to the figures on the wall, and instantly I am lifted inside.

Creatures of green, blue, teal, brown, all sorts of variety of colors raise their arms into the air. Weapons are held high for all to see. Cries burst of victory shatter those of aggressive rage. The orcs, upon their walls, yell to us a song of victory.

Sadly, it is short lived. From behind a deep responds. To me it sounds simply like an barrage of squeals and snorts, but quickly the force reacts. Ahead of me, the bone pile shifts. Skeletons rearrange themselves, scurry to the wall and then quickly unarranged themselves. Climbing on top of each other once again, they begin building multiple smaller structures now. They begin building ladders.

As they do this, a pack of centaurs position themselves in the middle of the field. After a second, a deep grunting fills the air, and the centaurs raise their previously unseen bows. A second later, they release a volley for the wall. Orcs crumble to the short attack, while others vanish out of side. It appears the scourge had a back up plan.

Despite this attack, the orcs are far more than able to reply fully. Arrows explode from the towers above, and within seconds centaurs and pigs alike cease their attack and let death come for them once again.

My attention is altered as a sudden shake in the Zeppelin draws my focus. The ship's base grows heavily on my feet and I notice a strong force in my left leg. I wait for a second then realize we are ascending.

Before I can turn my head, the Captains cry is heard, "Ok, boys, we gotta get back up again."

He pauses, giving me time to look over to him. Right as I do, I notice a large stone formation in front of us. It is one of the rock pillars I saw earlier. That would definitely explain why we are lifting off, so my question was instantly answered. _You got silenced even before you spoke! He cannot handle the rock!_

Slowly we take in the air, but fortunately, I feel like I am going to vomit for only a second as we barely pass over the jagged stone tower. It seems rather odd that we are going at such a sluggish speed, especially with this maniac. Looking back over the wall, I watch as third tower makes its way by the first one still standing. We did our best; saved half the wall. _You said it. He needs to save the wall he is standing on!_

Uncontrollably I glance down. I now know why we are going so slowly. My eyes peer down and sadly, another pair stare straight back up. Filthy ghoul! Raising my gun I ram a bullet into the chamber, and bring the weapon into aim. No need to aim here.

_TITHBURSH_

Blood splatters from the monster's head. Rolling backwards, the completely lifeless scourge releases from the metal siding and falls down. The body bounces off of the side of another creature. Instantly I lock on this new figure. It's a disgusting mesh of fur.

From this distance, the pig man is horrific to the sees and potent to the nostrils. The fur is greasy, and the visible muscle and bone appears dried and rotting. A metal helmet rests firmly over the bulk of the top of the creature's head. Its eyes cannot be seen from behind the metal.

Once again, my gun is at the ready. _TITHBURSH, TING. _The bullet ricochets into the air. Again, I aim. _TITHBURSH, TING_.Another time, the bullet flies away. That helmet is far thicker than I imagined. _You now know why the bomb bounced so nicely. He has learned; now he must aim for something…fleshier._

At that, I load my gun, lift, and aim a bit lower this time. _TITHBURSH. _Squealing, the pig flinches maddeningly as the round slices through its rather long snout. Bits of rotting flesh rip from its face and floats downward. The limp body holds to the side for only a moment before falling.

A shout comes from my side. Turning, I watch as one of the Forsaken gunners is pulled from his position and thrown overboard. The assailant is another disgusting pig. Foolishly, the creature is not finished. Reaching over, it grabs a hold of someone I would not dare touch.

Without hesitating, Nathanos glares at the monster, reaches back and grabs an arrow before stringing the bow on his elbow. With two fingers, he adjusts his weapon and with a gentle pluck, shoots the pig in the throat. The bow falls to the deck, but the pig does not budge.

No, instead it directs its unseen vision at the warrior and with all its might, lets forth an array of gargles, screams and horrific squeals. Marris pulls himself forward and grunts; his eyes focused upon the metal cap. Then, as swift as a fierce wind, Nathanos pull himself backwards, grips the axe at his side and with a quick hack, chops the beast's arm clear off.

Instantly falling backward, the pig releases another squall of squeals. After a second of tolerating the horrendously pitched screeching, Nathanos arches the blade back and lets it swing at the pig's head. Hovering silent now, the pig stays completely still. For a brief moment it sways. Suddenly falling backward, the defeated pig makes its exit from the battle.

Out of nowhere the cry of the captain's voice returns, "All this crazy fighting! Man, I cannot help but think about poor old boomer down below!" Chuckling at the wheel, the Captain interrupts the chaos with his own craziness.

Quickly I turn, pull my shovel from my back, and swiftly beat in a ghoul's head before turning to see what he is yelling about. As I twist, the captain continues, "You know that lad wants to be a hero?! Ha, goblins are not heroes!"

He tilts his head backwards and laughs before continuing, "No way, no how!"

From behind, Carlin cries, "Is this really a good time for this?!"

I glance out the corner of my eye. Carlin slams his shield into a pig before sliding his blade straight down a pig's throat. He turns around and glares at the Captain, "I know you feel like filling the obviously dull situation we are currently absorbed in, but…"

Carlin is unable to finish before the high-pitched tone takes over, "Silly pinky, goblins only know two things; efficiency and payment." He clears his throat, "It is inefficient to simply fly when I can fly and talk at the same time!"

The Captain shakes his head and nods, "To stray from either goal makes a goblin a fool!"

Glaring at the green individual, Carlin seems baffled, "Well, what about the payment then? Us dying payment enough for you!?"

Skippy shakes his head and turns to Carlin, "Lets just say, Pinky, that I am more of a fool than you can imagine." He chuckles to himself.

Nathanos blurts from my side despite the wild captain's cackling, "We already know that, you crazy twit!"

_You better turn around! He needs to smash something!_

Without delay, I spin and smack another ghoul in the face with my trusty tool. Dazed and rattled, the undead fiend loses grip and ungraciously makes a quick exit.

A sudden jerk in the ship forces me to grab the railing and brace myself. The ship tips to a higher angle. My feet slip to the side and I am barely able to steady myself. Unexpectedly the vessel creaks and the pressure in my left leg vanishes.

Sadly I stumble in place as I find the wooden floor below me stabilize and finally level out. About time, I was getting sick of going up and down. _You loved it. He liked the part where he wanted to vomit!_

As I find my balance for another time, the Captain shouts again; however, this time his tone is far more alarmed than normal, "Gar-ge-lays!"

I cannot help but turn and throw a cock-eyed look at the Captain. At first I am completely lost at what he said, but Carlin's cry from the side brings some sense to it, "Gargoyles!"

My head turns, but before I even look at Carlin, another sight takes my focus. Resting before me is the canyon of red and orange. Rows of towering pillars made of stone align themselves atop the rocky surface of the canyon top. These said large rocks of jagged and scarred shape surround pillars. Those rocks appear to grow in height.

Lifting upward, the stony forms rise. It appears as if ground itself moves, and as it does, distinctive figures are given shape. Short, twisted claws protrude from long, sickly legs.

Bones show up clearly through the malformed torso while wings of torn flesh ripple outwards in both directions. Between both spans of flight, a large, rather hairy head exposes two rows of fangs and encases two, beady, green eyes in the middle.

An army of Gargoyles.

_You liked Gar-ge-lays better. He…I actually did too._

Within a matter of moments, the sky is filled with the winged wretches. Dozens cloud the air with their filth. Hurriedly they gain altitude, and as they do, they begin their horrific flight in our direction.

Suddenly the ship sways, and I reach for the railing. I twist to see the tiny captain spinning the wheel and bracing his body to the right. As he does this, the entire vessel arches to the right and makes directly for the cloud of chaos.

Nathanos laughs oddly then slaps the railing. After a second, he leans backwards and grunts as he readies to talk, "Head straight into the enemy, genius!"

Stopping, the ship no longer turns. Instead, it begins gaining speed. Each individual figure becomes far more definite. Both parties head towards each other. Unfortunately, I have no idea why we are.

However, before I can voice my concern, Carlin takes control, "Are you mad?! There is no way we can attack them head on!"

Skippy laughs, "Pinky, there are three reasons why we can attack them head on." He clears his throat, "Firstly, if they reach the wall, the poor greenys will be overwhelmed from both aerial and ground siege."

He glances forward for a second before looking back at Carlin, "Secondly, I hate Gargoyles, and the only way for me to exert my hate is by shooting them."

For the last reason, he looks back forward and his voice deepens, "Finally…these are my skies."


	22. Heroes

_**All I did here was split chapter 18 into two parts. They are exactly the same, so if you have already read them, there is no new information. The length was just way too much, and in the future, I will rename them chapters 18 and 19 respectively. But for now, to keep confusion low, I will simply have it as two different parts for chapter 18.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

Gaining speed, the Captain accelerates his ship. A moment later, he yells over his shoulder to us, "Man the guns!"

Before I can even react, a force shoots through my arm and I find myself sliding to my right. After a second I am positioned behind a large, gray cylinder. Two sheets of armor are aligned to both sides of the tube and at the very end of the cylinder is a circular object, which I am assuming is the sight. _You, once again, are the master of observation. He is now a certified detective!_

I turn to see what happened, and find Nathanos standing where I once was. I glare at him, "Nathanos, you could have simply asked."

He shrugs before reaching down and picking up his bow. "Worm, forcing is far easier than asking. That and…you were on my bow. Idiot"

I ready myself to verbally attack the rotting fool, but Skippy overwhelms my voice, "Left side, aim your cannons straight ahead. Right side, straight, but arch them upwards!"

Shaking slightly, I glance over to the Forsaken warrior at the gun next to Nathanos. I am not sure if I am properly handling this gun, but it is exactly in the same position as his. I am still annoyed by being the one who has to use this.

Glancing over to Nathanos, a cough to gain his attention then continue, "Nathanos, why couldn't you just shoot this stupid thing?"

Without looking at me, he responds, "Well, it is stupid, as you said, and it fires too slowly. That and you looked bored." He flicks his hand at me a few times, "Worm, use this cannon to entertain yourself."

I swallow hard and gaze forward. Never thought I would strike someone as being bored on a ship driven by a suicidal captain. _You did seem rather drowsy. He just wasn't showing his true inner-excitement._

Unexpectedly I jerk backwards and the ship rocks and sways savagely. I make ready to see what is happening, but I quickly come to realize we are turning once again. And from the new figures coming into sight, we are making a very, very sharp right.

Within seconds the ship stops bolting to the side and we are steaming forward again. Now, however, in front of this side of the ship -- the one I am currently standing on-- is a wall of death. Almost upon us, the flying fiends approach the vessel quickly. Their eyes are far more defined now, and each glowing orb whispers damnation to crew. Fortunately, we have objects that return the favor.

The circular sight rests in the middle of the pack. Crisscrossing, metal lines make a perfect "X" in the middle of the circle. This said marking fits perfectly over a monster's form. My hand tenses, and my fingers tighten the metal grips I hold.

Then, as if the Captain read my mind, he yells to us, "Fire at will, boys, fire at will!"

_BRURSH, BRURSH._

Lurching backwards, the force of the cannon knocks me in place. A second later a black cloud bursts in the air and shortly after, two gargoyles twist, bend, and float limply downwards. I wait a second and slowly gain my baring after that shot. Unbelievable power. _You liked it! He enjoyed it so much, he is going to do it again!_

_BRURSH. _This time I recover far more quickly, and again I fire. _BRURSH. BRURSH. _There is another loud ring, of which I am certain comes from the gunner next to Nathanos, but I do not care.

Ringing equally as loudly is a slight pluck of a tightened string. Once, twice, three times, the bow rips death outbound. I turn to watch the undead soldier, and I cannot believe the sight. He grabs an arrow and releases it at a speed one could not even imagine possible. Countless Gargoyles fall to the light projectiles.

Cannot let Nathanos continue to have all the fun. _You cannot! He will not let it happen!_

Pulling myself forward, I make ready to figure, but it is then I notice my target. A few yards away, the Gargoyle opens its mouth and readies to strike. Quickly I pull myself down, and brace myself. The explosion rattles my body. I make to pull myself up, but I hear another hiss of a floating stone monster and hide here.

This time the explosion rings in my left ear, and I am forced to turn. I watch as the undead figure falls to the deck, his cannon unharmed. Sadly, I hear a cracking before me and I notice that the metal circle is point downward.

Suddenly, the metal cannon cracks at the base. It hangs firmly in place for a moment then ever so slowly, leans forward one last time. It breaks from its stand and falls out of sight.

Wings beat upon my mind as they fly over the balloon and through the ship itself. _BRURSH, BRURSH_. Glancing to Carlin and the Chapel Brothers, I watch as they fire into the air. The creatures that attempt to fly past are torn to shreds by the shrapnel from the shells. Some turn hurriedly and make back to attack the ship. We cannot let that happen.

Reaching back, I grip my gun, and pull it to my shoulder and breath. _TITHBURSH_. A Gargoyle aiming at Carlin flinches and falls. At that, I spin, pull myself over my railing and face where my cannon once had. _TITHBURSH._

I can almost feel the drops of blood from the splatter. The creature was no more than a few feet from the side of the ship. Raising my gun, I load, and fire another time. I expect the scream of a broken scourge, but instead, all I receive is a cry from my side.

"Worm, move!" Nathanos futilely yells to me.

My left side spins back and I feel the cannon's base jab into my back. A high-pitched ringing fills my head. I cannot hear a thing. _You…wi…He…listen…_

A sharp pain ripples from a spot near my left arm and I glance down to see. Green radiates gently from the area, and oddly, the acidic explosion seems to have simply brushed my being. But the sonic wave…my head is on fire.

Staring forward towards Carlin's side, I watch as another Gargoyle swoops in. Its talons extend out wide and quickly close on its victim. It slows only a bit as it grips Carlin's armor. The old man skids across the deck as the creature moves towards me. The ringing rips my mind, but I must ignore it.

I reach to my side and grip the first object I find. Quickly, and oddly, I raise my shovel into the air to strike, but I cannot feel my legs. My eyes lock with the old man, and it wont be long until the Gargoyle reaches the end of this ship.

I must…it is then I notice my weapon. A dull, bright light wafts from the tip of the blade. I can almost make out a few shapes etched into the metal, but I cannot focus. Suddenly, I tip the weapon forward, aim the spade at the Gargoyle and wait.

Pulsating from the shovel, a flash of light erupts. Instantly the weapon stops glowing, and the Gargoyle slows. After a second, it flaps its wings one last time, lets go of Carlin and bounces off the railing of the ship.

As the glowing of my weapon stops, so does the ringing. The burning continues, but I can ignore it.

From a few feet in front of me, Carlin talks, "Hope, what in the world was that?"

Confused and dazed, all I can do is shrug and shake my head. Quickly he stands up, and laughs a bit before speaking again, "Well, whatever it was, thank you."

Jerking forward, I catch sight of the Captain spinning the wheel and rotating the ship, once again, in a right direction. After a few moments, it faces the walls of the city. Rocking side to side, the ship steadies itself and we begin gaining speed.

Without turning back to us, the Captain shouts, "Hold tight, boys, the Gar-ge-lays have given us a moment of relaxation! That means…crank Mibaby to maximum!"

Lurching backwards, I barely grip the side as we barrel forward. Carlin grunts from my side, but I do not turn to look. Air whips across my sensitive scar, and breezes against my watery eyes. Oddly, for the first time ever, the speed does not bother me. _You want more of it. He wants to just leap off the railing and reach his terminal velocity!_

What?

Unexpectedly my inner confusion and moment of enjoyment is shattered by a shout from below. "Victory, my brethren!" The deep, scratchy voice ripples outward and rings exactly like slime rivers of Undercity.

I quickly pull myself over the side to take a look, but I cannot make out any definite form. However, I can make out the empty path below. Light red stone rests patted and compressed from the many feet of the broken army. Brown and gray lumps lay ruined amongst the path.

The path is empty. Following it, I sweep across the many fallen forms until…what in the world!? Standing amidst the dark red canyon walls is a creature that almost fills the entire gap from head to toe.

Covering the enormous creature in patches, rotting flesh and decaying fur rests. Despite what the leathery skin misses to cover, a thick, gray armor covers the chest, frontal arms and the top of the head. Behind both coverings are bones. Thousands of bones.

Light bounces from the pale beams. Fur hangs loosely to arrays of awkwardly aligned marrow. Two, massive feet constructed from what I can only imagine are a dozen pig men rest in the soil. Ahead of them, gigantic, twisted talons from monstrous hands tear into the ground. Arms and legs made from a thousand skeletons connect these pedestals of terror and support to the torso.

Small, man-sized arms protrude from all over the body. They claw the air fruitlessly as if they are attempting to escape their fate. The large spikes running down the back and to the head hide some of the sky-scratching arms.

Rusted, dulled metal rests upon the monster's scalp as well as run down the massive, protruding snout. Only bone makes up the entire structure that is its head. The bones come together to make two openings on both sides. These holes release a thick, bluish smoke that radiates to the heavens. Those are its eyes.

Before I can even make a sound, the deep, blood gargling voice returns. "Go, show the living the strength of the Lich King! Tear down these walls!"

For a second, the creature simply stands there. For a second it doesn't seem to respond. For a second, it gives us hope. But it is just a brief, short second.

Movement erupts from the bottom of its head. Fluids of multiple colors sweep from the jaw. Arching back, the creature prepares itself.

A bellowing roar shatters my being. It is as if it is all I can hear, yet it sounds so far away. My senses seemed dulled. I cannot tell if my hands are covering my ears. I feel as if I am swaying, but I cannot tell! Make it stop! _You must focus. He cannot stand it!_

Instantly it fades to only be replaced by something worse. _Thud, thud, thud, thud thud thud THUDTHUD. _Regaining control, I find myself no longer at the railing. Without hesitating, I lean forward and just in time, I watch as the monster vanishes under the ship.

Turning my head to the right, I notice the Zeppelin speed through the massive towers of the wall.

_CARASH._

A thunderous explosion of crunching metal and shattering stone fills the air. Quickly we fly over the wall covering in dozens of green figures and equally as quickly we pass over it.

_CARASH._

It is as if the wall didn't even slow the creature at all. First a large, spiny white claw flies forward before slamming on the ground. Stone falls and crumbles around the beast as it draws its other arm through the obviously small entry it violently created. Crumbling rock removes itself from the wall, while rope snaps and flies as its once peaceful location is torn asunder. It has entered the city.

It roars once again. My mind is rattled for a moment.

Then, as if not slowed, as if not confined, as if not affected, a voice replies, but not that of any scourge, "I am Saurfang, son of these lands, follower of the true Warchief, protector of this city!"

There is a pause, "You trample recklessly upon the Warchief's land; upon his very home! Foolish! I did not fall to the mighty demons, nor shall I fall to you."

Spinning my head to the right and in the direction of the sound, I catch sight of a green figure holding itself commandingly on a wooden, wheeled platform.

Once more he bellows in response to the creature, "Now meet the full fury of the Horde!"

In a flash he sweeps his massive axe into the wooden plank he stands upon. _WHOOSH_, the green man flies into the air as the catapult built for stone gives flight to the warrior. Stopping abruptly, the figure crashes into the head of the monster.

I lose sight of the figure temporarily as the ship arches to the left then steadies itself. What a sight! Green limbs swing death down upon death itself! Lifeless, pale arms draw strength from the dark to gain the power necessary to fight! Blue smoke erupts from the head, while red fluid falls from the warrior. Their cries fill the air! _You are inspired! He sees a hero in the making!_

Sadly, I a red wall quickly blocks my view as the two continue their fight. Glancing back to the forward of the ship, I watch as the Captain navigates around the bending path and to the western wall.

Down below, spiders scurry across the walls while orcs and trolls attempt to stop them. As we near the towers we failed to miss once, a familiar voice rings loud, "Hold'ya line bruddhas! If we fall, da city falls!"

Peering more closely, I can now tell they are fighting a losing battle. Only a few soldiers brace the buckling gate and equally as few fight back the ones storming the walls.

Passing by the wall, Vol'jin cries once again, "Ahead, warriors, ahead! Do not let da cauldron over dat bridge! Do not let its poison into this city!"

We slow and head flawlessly past the towers. Thankfully, mind you, because I do not think I had it take another violent shaking. _You said it. He is sick of rocking and rolling._

I run over to the right railing and glance down to see what the troll is talking about. There, rolling on to the bridge is a massive, black cauldron. Within its arched walls is a thick, orange liquid that bubbles a greenish mist into the air. Unfortunately it vanishes under the tarp placed over the bridge, but I can still make out the thick haze it creates.

As we float here, the Captain yells to us, "Boys, can you hit that target?!"

Nathanos appears in the corner of my eye. Without waiting, the undead man throws an already lit bomb down at the bridge. It floats for a second then sadly, catches the tarp. Bouncing a few feet into the air, the bomb darts past the wooden structure and explodes harmlessly below.

The Captain is the one to express his feelings, "Damn it all to hell! We have nothing on this ship that can hit that." He shakes his head.

Suddenly a soft voice takes over, "We do have this one, Captain!"

I spin and catch sight of the good chef…engineer…Boomer. In his hands rest a rather large, but not too large cylinder. A few knobs run on the sides of the device and two green arms wrap around it tightly. Written in big, white letters are the words "SAPPER CHARGE."

Raising his arms into the air, the Captain attempts to smile, but something interrupts his incoming cheer, "Ah, Boomer, that will not do it." Again he shakes his head. "That stupid thing can only be hand operated."

Turning forward the Captain grunts, "Stupid, crazy goblin sappers! Bombs that you have to carry all the way to the target! Suicidal fools."

Glancing down, I watch as the cauldron makes its way to the center of the bridge. We need to stop it! _You have to think of something! He…where is your holy water!?_

From behind, Carlin's voice takes over, "Do we have nothing else!? If that fluid is released into the city the entire populace will be injected with the plague! Everything we did here today will be for nothing!"

Nathanos slams the railing and grunts, "Like hell! The Undercity did not fall, nor shall this city!" He grunts again, "I will throw Worm at that bubbling hell if I have to!?"

Yeah! Wait…what?!

Then, once again, the soft voice returns, "Sorry Captain."

Shaking his head, Skippy replies, "You have nothing to be sorry about. We just aren't meant to level cities, just fill infantry divisions with broken metal."

Again Boomer talks, "No, Captain, I am sorry because I will not be making dinner tonight."

The captain pauses and a light thudding sound fills the air. Spinning in his spot, he turns to yell at the goblin, "Boomer, don't you dare!"

I missed the small man as he moved. I missed him as he sprinted across the deck. I missed him as he made his way to the railing. I even missed him when he leaped off the side. I, however, did not miss him as he fell.

Gripping the device firmly, he turns some knobs and fidgets with the sides. He falls quickly, but that is not of concern. His clothing is grabbed by the air and pulls upwards as if it trying to reach for us. Long, green ears waft side to side as wind whips them.

He falls fast. As he nears the bridge, he does something odd. Extending his arms and legs, he lets the wind carry him. He releases that which are the bindings of life and lets in the calm before death. It only lasts a moment, but from here, I can tell that the goblin is in a state of being only a few ever achieve. He is…ready.

In a flash he tears through the tarp and with a splash, lands directly in the cauldron itself.

_BRRRRRUUUUURRRRRRRSSSSSHHHHHHH_

Flame engulfs the air. Expanding it all directions, the fiery damnation consumes the bridge and reaches towards the wall. Red flames smash into the gate and climb effortlessly up the walls. That same fire grabs the sides of the ship and rocks the entire structure. Smoke covers the deck and blocks my vision. _You cannot see. He knows that was one hell of an explosion!_

Almost instant the ship pulls from the cloud and heads forward. I make to turn, but a strange, distant sound echoes for us. At first, I cannot tell what it is, but then, as it rings again, I know it perfectly. A horn.

I turn to see what it is. Before us, the sky is filled with figures. Wings beat the air while shapeless beings ride between them. I have no idea what they are, but I am guessing they are not good. _You fool! He knows nothing!_

Instantly Nathanos laughs and shakes his head. "About time, back-up! Good to see you show up!" He chuckles, "Crazy cows! Come show these scourge their end!"

I peer forward for a moment, but I cannot make out what he is talking about. However, the rest of the crew begins chanting and cheering. Mark picks Jon up and gives his brother a shaking. Nathanos claps his hands and raises his hand into the air. Carlin pauses before laughing oddly.

But, standing alone at the tip of the ship, Skippy rocks the wheel limply in his hands. Just under the cheers, I can hear him speak, "Gods' speed, my little Boomer. Today, you proved to be as big a fool as I." He sniffles before continuing, "May you live on forever in your delicious strudel recipe."

Instantly I smile. I cannot help but gaze back and look into the now slowly growing cloud. Lone black and red flares reach upwards from the main, massive gray cloud encircling the once standing bridge.

These flares reach upwards to the heavens and represent more than just the residue of destruction. Each one is a warrior lost today. Each one tells a story of a brave fighter lost. Each one screams courage born and lost this today. And the highest one, the one reaching into the sky taller than the rest, is that of Boomer.

Slowly I slump against the railing and let a new found hum in my head weaken my senses, except for a pulsing in my chest. I ignore the pain and continue to stare at the smoke. Weakly I smile and give a nod.

Farewell, my friend, may your story be told for decades.

Today, you earned your title…Hero.


	23. Mind Games

Ringing, all I can hear is a rather profound chime within my skull. Tiny sparks of screechy echoes bring reality to a mild blur. Ugh, I do not know why this is happening. _You should lay off the alcohol. He should get more boos; He needs to bring me some._

Gliding across the surface of sweaty confusion near my eyes, my hands remove a thin film of self-produced water. I attempt to bring both my arms up, but my left arm is not functioning. Carefully I glance down to see why. Glowing gently, a small green spot pulsates near my left shoulder.

Oh yeah, that's right, that stupid gargoyle. Quite the strike, if you ask me. _You weren't asked_. Normally this doesn't hurt so badly, but for some reason, it throbs mercilessly. It feels as if the entire left side of my body numbed and dull yet burns wildly. Each pulse sends a cascade of horror through my body.

Each pulse drives a torrent of sweat from my brow. Something is wrong. _You need medical attention. He needs a medic…a medic and a sponge bath!_

My leg twitches violently. Another pulse rattles my mind. Slowly I open my eyes. Before me the crew of brave warriors jump up and down in a fit of joy. Every soldier leaps without any self-control. Every soldier turns to the other and hugs them. Every soldier enjoys his victory.

Glancing upward my eyes catch sight of a strange, winged creature dart through the air. I am not certain what it was. Wait, again, there is another. This time I see some sort of…ugh…another pulse -- I take a deep breath, let the pain subside and focus.

Yes, on that strange mount I saw an orc. There is no mistaking it that was an orc on some bird monster. _You saw correctly. He saw a wvyren_. A what? _You saw the horde's winged beasts of war_. They are kinda…kinda…ugly…

Pulse.

Something is terribly, terribly…wrong. The ringing intensifies. It drills through my sanity. Thousands of tiny echoes tearing at my mind! What is this madness?! I cannot take this…I cannot.

Turning my head as quickly as I can, I glance to my side. A gray figure sits. A twisted limb wraps itself awkwardly across its chest while the heavy, black hair mats across the wrinkles on its face. His head rests against the railing at an odd angle.

My right arm suddenly lifts itself. I cannot feel anything in this possessed limb. Gently it reaches towards the figure. Carefully it extends outwards. Slowly it draws to the figure. Then, with a soft touch, my fingers glide across the figure's cheek.

Instantly my mind is filled with an explosion of chimes! The sound is deafening…I cannot…hear…myself…think. What….happening…me. _You must…He…focus! _What is happening?

Suddenly a surge of icy chill ripples from my extended limb. It erupts in my fingertips and spirals uncontrollably down the entire arm. Then, as before, I can feel nothing. Nothing besides the pressure inside my head!

Again the cold returns, but this time it bursts through my chest. Creeping upwards the frost crawls across the lower portion of my neck. Dancing under my skin the tendrils course slowly through my brain. Without warning the pace is quickened. Inching fast across my chin, it passes my eyes lips, up to my eyes.

The ringing!

Death

One, definite sound emerges through all the ringing.

Death

Which one of you is doing this?! _You have us mistaken. He must calm himself!_

Vengeance

Stop it! _You must understand that is not us. He must calm himself. _Who is it then?! Who else can it possibly be?! _You must understand. He will know._

Uncontrollably I can barely feel as my mouth opens, "Stop lying to me!"

My own voice echoes within my skull. Instantly I feel a force erupt through the numbed portions of my cheeks. Whatever occurred brings my visions back into focus. Standing before me is a rather enraged, yet worried Nathanos.

I can feel his bony fingers resting against the sides of my face now, and I can see his mouth moving; however, I cannot make out what he trying to say. He makes a few more attempts to communicate with me before frowning, and slightly shaking me.

Nervously he scans my body, but he won't find what is wrong. The infamous humming of insanity is what is the problem. No, he will not see what is wrong. Suddenly sound barrages my array of senses once again.

Thrusting his head to the side, he looks away and shouts, "Goblin, port this vessel immediately!"

Limply I feel my head flop in the direction that the undead yells towards. Resting at the wheel of the ship, Skippy firmly holds himself. Smoothly and calmly the goblin turns, letting the large lit cigar in his mouth burn brightly for us.

Once again I feel my mouth twitch, "Skip…you smoke?"

He turns away instantly and spins the wheel, "Boomer wouldn't let me before." He pauses for a moment, inhales then releases a large bloom of smoke, "I will smoke every one in his honor."

"That seems rather contradictory…" The words slip past my tongue unwillingly…or unknowingly.

Skippy does not respond, but, instead, a force ripples through my head and I find myself looking back at Nathanos again, "Worm, what is wrong with you?"

I must tell him, but I don't know how. Maybe I have no clue what is occurring. Ha, of course I have no idea. _Why would I know what is happening? You will soon enough. He will._

Pulse.

Pain surges through my body. My arms pull in violently, slamming my hands into the sides of Nathanos' head. Stiffening, my legs jut outwards. Muscles in my face convulse, cracking the cartilage.

Fingers squeeze against some cold, chilled, creepy texture and my eyes focus intently on Nathanos' matching figure, "You will tell me…NOW!"

His eyes widen. He has no idea what is happening. He has no clue. About time. Instantly I slump back. The world spins. Ringing…such…ringing.

It feels as if an eternity passes. I watch in complete helplessness as hurrying warriors scatter across this broken deck. Skippy throws the wheel without reason while Nathanos barks his bastardly orders.

_They will all die_. Wait, what? Why…why am I thinking this? _Fool, you are evil_. _Accept your fate. Kill them._ Are you two taunting me?! _You are losing yourself. He must not give in._

The world is heavy. It holds upon my body. _They will all die._ Spinning. _You will lead them._ Everything…swirling. _At the broken ruins of the past. _Edges of my mind…filled with black. _They will all die._

Blurred. All blurred. A sudden jerk rocks my body. Following quickly after, a force erupts through my right arm, and I find myself rising upwards. From the corner of my eye I can see the green goblin rushing to the edge of the ship. From the other corner I watch as Nathanos struggles to straighten me.

He once again is yelling, but I cannot make out what he is saying. The ringing draws my vision into a darker haze. It clouds my mind. _It gives you the true sight. Darkness._ My left arm lifts up uncontrollably. Carlin gives Nathanos the aid he needs, and in a flash I find myself moving forwards.

My feet drag limply across the floor. I cannot make out what is happening. _Lead them. You cannot do this alone. He shall be given the aid needed._

Pulse

Twitching, my body jerks for a moment. Then, and I am almost certain, the ringing lessens. The constant loop of chiming sounds fades. _You are welcome. He shall only have so much time._

Now I can barely make out what is occurring. I can hear Nathanos' voice slightly, "Move out of the way you mindless lumps!"

Another strange voice follows after, "Commander, calm yourself. Follow this way."

Another orc emerges in my vision, this one directly ahead of us. This one holds himself strongly, and firmly. Long, black hair flows down his back and comes to short braids in the front. Resting on his chin is also the same black hair, which also come to braids. Thick muscles run down his neck and lead to his armor.

I notice him waving a large, silver mace in his right hand. He uses it to point at rather armored orcs, of who move at the simple gesture. We move across a thin rope bridge. We near the edge…

Pulse

It returns. It returns! _You must fight it! He has to be strong!_ No control! Everything is a blur. The pace quickens. My feet drag heavily. Ringing…ringing. What feels like an hour passes by. I know this is not possible, but time stretches itself limitlessly

Suddenly, I feel a sharp burst of emerge throughout my back. We have stopped moving, but…but everything continues to twist and bend. Eyes are locked forward, but a dark haze has begun forming at the edges.

A sudden movement catches my attention. Nathanos glares down at me then frowns. He turns and speaks to something unseen. Concern sweeps over his face before he glances down to me again. His figure shakes to the quickening ringing loop. For a moment he looks down at me and I peer up at him. Then he smoothly takes a step back. Emerging from the upper part of my vision is what appears to be a troll.

Thick, brown robes hang loosely from his vibrating visage while purplish hair dangles helplessly from the corners of his face. A long nose points his sight, and as of now, it is fixated on me. _You also think it might be at the wall. He doesn't know._

His large, gray pupils scan my being. Carefully he draws his twisted fingers across the surface of my chest. I cannot feel where he is touching, but I am guessing he is focused upon the wound of which draws my mind into this darkened dramatic dimension. For a moment he stares downward at my chest. His vision narrows before he sighs.

Suddenly his eyes divert to my face and he frowns. Ripples of vibration occasionally break the fellow's body into three separate beings. The ringing is horrific. It worsens every moment. It is as if a barrage of bells has broken into my mind, and they tumble upon themselves in a wild frenzy! _You have such vivid analogies. He should write some of these down._

Even your annoying voices are deafened! I cannot handle this! Thought I cannot feel it, I know my body arches horribly. Pressure builds in my fingertips. They claw against the wooden surface. My eyes roll in their sockets until I find the troll again. He has not moved, the same stance as before.

Kill him! The fool is off guard!

The voice is…so familiar! I cannot make it out. _You…you need to listen to your words. He…needs to listen._ What are you babbling about!?

They are blinded. Cease following them; lead them to the ruins of the broken past. Kill them there.

Who is that?! You…you really must listen. He…is it. I am what?! You are hearing something familiar. He is hearing…his own voice.

No…NO…

Unexpectedly a tingling burns across my forehead. My eyes divert upward and I catch sight of the troll. His hand rests upon my forehead. Barely in my vision I can make out a small rag looking object.

He sighs and looks at me, "Dat betta, mon?"

Looking at his eyes I am at a lost of words. My mouth glides upon partially, but nothing comes out. Fortunately the troll recognizes the expression and smiles, "Ah, yah mon, dis flesh wound be not da problem," he coughs, "You got spiritual problems, mon. Ya spirit be broken."

There is a grunt from out of sight, "How do you figure that, troll?" Of course, Nathanos' was the one to respond.

The troll ignores the undead's comment, "Mon, wat be happen'n in dat head'a'yours?"

Once again, my opened mouth does nothing. I focus for a moment and let the wonderful sense of feeling calm my body. I can do this. I am a big man. You sure? He…

"Don't you finish that!" I foolishly blurt out.

Confusion swarms the green, scarred face of the troll. After a second he laughs and smiles, "Who ya talk'n to, mon?"

I sigh, "The…eh…well…," I swallow heavily, "The voices…in…my head?"

Oddly the troll doesn't laugh. No, his once joyous face contorts to one of extreme focus. He scans my face for something then frowns, "They sound like you?"

I try to figure out what that means, but uncontrollably I begin to speak, "What do you mean?"

He doesn't hesitate with his answer, "Mon, do they hav'ya voice? Is it ya, but talk'n to yaself?"

Still not exactly sure what he means, but I speak anyway, "Um, no. They aren't me…I think. They are different voices."

Once again his response is quick, "Are dey of people'ya know?"

My head wriggles slightly under his massive palm, "No, they are their own."

The troll throws his head to the side, "You, bald'n one, put ya palm on dis rag here."

After a second Carlin appears in my vision. The old man looks nervously at the green figure before shifting his sight upon my being. Hurriedly his pale palm glides across the slightly damp rag. Equally as fast the troll darts out of sight. There is silence for a brief moment before I hear what sounds like a massive object hitting a table.

Rustling of paper fills the air, and quickly realize he is mostly shifting through a book. You figured that out on your own? He needs a break! He is a smart kid…sometimes.

A few seconds later the troll's voice returns, "Mon, dese voices do dey take'wit ya? As a different person?"

I futilely attempt to adjust my vision towards him, but have no luck. Instead I simply speak, "Yes, they normally harass me."

This time I hear a chuckle from the troll, "Mon do…" He cuts himself off. A moment later he cheers to himself and more rustling erupts.

Sounds of glass and stone glancing together whistle loudly until the troll's voice overwhelms them, "Dis be it, mon. Dis be it!"

Moments later the smell of something burning engulfs my senses. The smell quickly intensifies, and within seconds the troll is back in sight. This time he returns carrying a small, gray bowl. A thin line of smoke wafts gently into the darkened halls of this room. He motions Carlin away with his hand. Using that same hand he presses down on the rag and draws the bowl near my face.

He smiles, "Mon, wat I got here will help ya find out wat be wrong wit ya crazy head."

Once again the drum of dramatic entrance rattles the round boundaries of my chest. It beats wildly and harshly. I try to calm myself, but…for some reason, what he said does not appeal to me.

I take a deep, shaky breath before speaking, "What do you mean? What is this going to do?"

His head tilts to the sight after he his lips make a strange, jerking movement. Quickly after he responds, "Ya gonna be released from ya fleshy body. Ya gonna enter the outer reaches of da Emerald Dream in orda'ta see wat be in ya head."

The machine in my chest quickens its pace. Producing from it is a swarm of uncertainty and confusion. This time I reply without any thought, "Wait, how is a bowl going to do that?"

He shakes his head, "Mon, da incense in dis bowl be from some…special…friends I know. Dey don't fail to reach me demands."

I don't know. I don't know. You should just relax. He needs to believe. I still don't…

Suddenly the troll jerks the bowl forward. I shift back, but it is too late. A torrent of smells surge in my nostrils. Warm tendrils of smoke tickle my cheeks. My skin numbs slowly. Ringing…all but gone.

So…relaxing…

All my skin is numb now. Body is light as air. An overwhelming sensation fills my being. The world bends. Walls of stone ripple like pools of water. The troll before me slowly grows…transparent. Normally I would be terrified, but…relaxing…

Slowly now, he disappears from my sight. The boundaries of my mind bend and quake, but they do so gently. A gray fog emerges all around. The troll vanishes completely.

Oddly, even with his departure of the physical nature, I can still hear his crazy voice, "Mon, ya might need a moment or two. Dat dere be powerful stuff."

I feel a slight tingle in my face, and I believe I am smiling, "Good, ok, can do that, will…me."

There is a terrific moment of complete silence. Oh, such a beautiful, beautiful moment. Mmmmhmmmm, fantastic.

Fortunately, the wonderful troll takes over, "Mon, focus, ya probably feeling like ya just dipped in a pool'o'snuff, but I need'ya to work wit me."

Yes, focus a perfect focus. Do it Hope. Dance with the mind of complete narrowness. Let the silence compel you to feel marvelous! Wait…silence…I have not been bothered by anyone. Not bothered by a single soul.

Odd.

I must know, "Troll, what happened to the happy voices?"

There is a strange sound of awkward laughing then a reply, "Mon, dat wat ya should be looking for. Ya can find dem were ya be, mon."

Find them? Yes, I must find them, but my body…it…so warm and joyous. Focus a good focus. Focus strong now. Gather your thoughts. Relax in a pool of sensations. Yes, relax.

Sadly my relaxation is broken by a rather familiar voice, "You need to get up, you twit."

I know that voice. I know that voice! Focus, Hope, focus! Find yourself, move that arm. Move it! There you go. Such a strange feeling, but I can feel it move. Keep focusing!

Pulling my head up I can now see my body. A gray mists floats from all ends of my being. I too appear to ripple gently with the rest of this world. Emerald Dream, eh?

A second familiar voice erupts, "He really needs to focus. Stand up, fool."

Arching up, my body torso comes to an upright position. Quickly but carefully I turn my legs so that they are off the table and sit on the edge. Calmly I caress the cloudy surface below before breaking off to stand.

I sway back and forth. I take a step forward, but instead end up throwing my foot off to the right. Again I try, but end up heading in a strange arch to my right. Another step, closer to the center this time. I wish I could go in a straight line, but…I guess this will do.

A voice booms, "You need to turn now. You got a good bearing…kinda."

Ok, do not spin yourself too hard, Hope. Slowly, turn your head. There you go. Turn, turn. Stop! Excellent!

Again the voice returns, "You done good, Hope."

I try to take in the voice, but the figures standing before me absorb my mind. Two, tall blackened figures rest before me. Their edges outline a human form, but they have no limbs, no face, just an outline and the appearance of a head, torso, and a base structure.

Their edges vibrate with the rest of the world. The bulk of their being is a solid black color, except for a dull white spot in the exact center. Both of them appear exactly alike and stand equal distance away from what appears to be a throne in the back center of the room.

I wait a moment then I am compelled to speak, "What are you?"

Expecting them to reply, I am almost disappointed when I find the troll's voice responding, "I can hear ya, mon, as well as da rest of us here," there is a slight pause, "Wat ya see, mon?"

It takes me a moment to truly take in what he says then I begin scanning the room for a second time, "Um, well…the world is…shaky."

He interrupts, "No, mon, wat be in da world; mention everything ya see."

Again I look around and then speak, "Well, besides me, there are two figures standing before me."

His voice lowers a bit, "Dat be dem, mon! Now, now, I need ya to describe dem!"

I speak, "Both of them are human shaped; they both kind of look like black, vibrating, mummies. Except without tape and are black."

The troll doesn't return instantly, but once it does it sounds more far serious, "Did ya…say black, mon?"

I nod out of force of habit, "Yes, black with a white glow emitting from their chests. Almost as dark as the walls"

Again, a pause before he responds, "Dat…dat strange, mon. Very strange."

My shoulders shrug for no one, "Wat…what…do you mean?"

I can hear him smack his lips, "Black is not a good color where'ya be, mon. Black signifies evil, darkness, mon," again he pauses before continuing, "but da white in dem signifies good. It is as if dey are as confused as you be."

I sigh, "They never really seem that way. You know, with the constant, direct harassment and all."

The troll seems to ignore me and begins muttering to himself, "Ok, ok. Wat dis mean, mon? Wat dis mean? Not confused…but…maybe not demselves!" He claps his hands, "Mon, dey be not demselves!"

Foolishly I look around as if I can see him, "What does that mean?"

This time the troll doesn't respond, "You must see that we couldn't tell you the truth." The figure to my left appeared to glow as it spoke.

This time the right figure pulsates, "He needs to know…he wasn't ready to hear what I held from him."

Suddenly the troll's voice erupts, "Mon, ya dere? Are dey speak'n to ya?"

Again I nod, "Yes, they are, shush."

I look at both of them, "What are you hiding from me?"

The left one replies, "You just were not ready. You needed…"

Something inside me twists, "What are you hiding from me?!"

A brief silence follows before the right one responds, "He might not like what we are going to tell him."

I shake me head, "I don't care. I'd rather know!"

The left one takes over this time, "You shall get what you want. You see, the weapon you hold in your physical form…I knew what it was."

The right one continues, "We knew what it was for."

The left one replies, "The shovel we collected had a design and a purpose. There was no accident."

Right one now, "Correct, it was gathered as an unsuspicious tool. We knew it could be easily slipped past into your land."

Left one, "Yes, I gathered the tool and he was the one to rune it to match the Lich King's demands. No one ever suspected a thing."

A small knot gathers at the pit of my stomach. Together they had gathered a weapon for the Lich King. Together they made a tool of destruction.

I narrow my vision, "How could you create such an item…for the Lich King!?"

A pulse erupts from the left one, "You must understand that we did not have a choice. You know the power of his sway. You have dealt with him plenty of times to understand. "

My hand runs across my face, and I sigh, "Yes…I know…a horrible feeling. But why? Why did you think this wasn't important enough to tell me?"

There is a brief silence. Finally the right responds, "Because…it was delivered to your father as only a temporary weapon."

I raise an eyebrow, "Only temporary? Was there another one constructed?!"

The right one continues, "No…no…it was temporary for him."

The left one takes over, "It…was meant for the true bearer to come of power."

Right one, "It was meant for the wielder to be granted the dark gift."

Left one, "It was meant for an excellent warrior of the Lich."

Right, "It was meant…for you."

Everything ripples wildly. Even in this form I can feel my body quake. It was…meant for me. Darting back and forth my eyes lose control. The walls have no shape; they bend to breaking. The very same walls those now I notice are dark, darker than the rest of the room.

Black.

A voice, so distant, reaches out to me, "Mon, mon! Wat be happen'n?! Ya body be flipp'n out, mon! Shake'n all ova'da place!"

His words mean nothing. All I can take in now are these horrible, horrible walls. What do they mean? No, I know what they stand for. I know exactly what they signify. These walls represent me. They are my spirit!

As I rock here, lost in my own thought, the voice that reminds me of the right figure speaks, "He must calm himself. His body is still tethered to his spirit, any mental reaction here will trigger damage to the physical being."

My head whips side to side, "Who cares?! Let it burn! Let is shake! Let it fail!"

The figure on my left draws my attention, "You react exactly as we imagined. But you must remember…it was a weapon built for a boy who's father still controlled him. For a boy with a father who was controlled by the Scourge. You are not in company of either."

Continuing to scan the room, my mind cannot shake the black walls that embrace my being. Every inch is black, every inch except for a small gray patch on the side. It leads a small trail of light gray into the room.

But that means nothing!

The scar is probably my sight; the same vision that sees the light, but won't let it in. These walls are soaked in damp dark paint. Covered in the damnation that is my soul.

The left speaks again, "Do not ignore us, you blasted fool! Do you think I gave my power to a dark, evil idiot?!"

The tone reeks of a disgruntled scent. Now I find myself fixated on the blob. His being pulsates piercingly and profoundly, "Yeah, look at me you blind bastard! How dare you assume that!?" There is a brief pause, "I'd only give it to an idiot of the light!"

Instantly I feel myself relax. The walls calm once again, but sadly, still bear the mark. I attempt to respond, but nothing comes out. He always knew what to say to bring me back from my wild tantrums, but still.

Focused once again I glare at the left figure, "I still don't know if I can trust either of you."

Recovering from his recent explosion of color the left figure clams before speaking, "You are right in your thoughts. Our lies hide us from you, but were simply to aid you. To prevent you from weakening; falling to the Lich King's might."

My eyes narrow upon his being, "Of course, I…wait…why would you need to do that?"

Responding the right one takes over, "He is powerful, Hope Blackwood. He wishes to add all to his ranks."

I am still not certain. My head rocks side to side, "He doesn't need me. I am nothing. I am not random wanderer. I am no hero."

Patiently I wait for a response. It takes a brief moment, but it is the troll that speaks, "Mon, you ok…we be patching ya reopened wound. But mon, wat in da world…"

I wave my hand blindly in the air, "Not now."

At that the right figure talks, "We did it to prevent him from obtaining you. Prevent him from absorbing you into his many ranks. Prevent him from taking control of what he wants. Prevent him from taking back his…"

Suddenly a voice interrupts from the side. "You!" It is familiar, but yet so distant.

I whip my head to the side and glance over to the patch in the wall. The gray spot still rests where it was, but this time, a small gray cloud floats gently near it. I have no idea what it is.

Wildly it begins shaking. Spikes rip out in form directions and quake upon appearing. A small ball emerges as its head and three spears grow from it. Slowly each spike and ball begins taking shape. Each molds and takes shape. Seconds later limbs are apparent as well is a small head with a large nose and ears.

It looks like captain Skippy. A goblin.

Once he gains his footing he twists and points at me, "You! I remember you! They told me not to go towards the light, but I had to. I had to!"

Now I remember who this is. It is the little fellow on the ship. But how?

Narrowing my vision on him I speak, "How did you manage to get in here, Boomer?"

Captain Skippy is the one to speak this time, "Boomer? What does he have to do with anything?!"

My mouth opens, but nothing. How is he in here? Did the troll not mention something? Did he fail to mention that ghosts would float in and out of my vision?

Seconds later a voice that is mine bursts forth, "Troll…I am seeing a recently departed friend. What does that mean?"

The troll whispers something then speaks out loud, "Mon, dat not normal. Dis incense is for'ya and ya alone. No one but ya mind can reach it," he smacks his lips, "And let me tell'ya, it be a crazy party in dere."

Again Skippy speaks, "Boomer…my friend. I must tell him something! You, Clumsy One, tell him I'm gonna climb in there and kill him a second time!"

I do not have to speak. Boomer laughs to himself, wipes his face before looking back at me, "Crazy captain."

He suddenly twitches then points at me again, "You! I remember you! They told me not to go, but I had to go to the light!"

I shake my head, "You already said that." I look up at the ceiling as if something is there, "Troll, what is going on? I am so confused."

A weak, nearly mumbled voice of a baffled troll replies, "Mon, at least ya' can see something."

I look back to Boomer. As I do, I feel a weak chill sweep my presence. Rather odd. Doesn't seem possible for there to be a freeze here.

Boomer takes a step back towards the apparently shrinking mesh of gray, "We all remember you, Pinky."

Inching back, he takes a step into the almost closed gap. His head only appears now, "Something is coming, hero. Something is coming."

Then, in a flash, he and the bright blob of bewilderment vanishes. Now I am left here, confused to a limit I did not know possible. Boomer, a ghost that should not be here, was. A troll of direction is currently on a rapid river without a boat. And, to top it off, every inch of my being blossoms with frosty fingers.

Brushing my grayed face, my palm calms me before I speak, "Troll, I have no idea what happened, but, it left a terrible chilled feeling in its wake."

He laughs before speaking, "Ya, mon, ya be frosty to da touch."

Eyes of mine sweep within my head. As they pass by the two blobs, I notice something occurring on the throne behind them both. Squinting eyes attempt to figure out what is happening. Moments later I notice another blob emerge. Unlike the other two, though, this one is extremely black. As if light itself fails to penetrate it.

Great. Another wonderful aspect of confusion. Shaking my head, I look at the floor then back up, "Troll, am I suppose to be seeing another blob now? Wait, wait, let me guess, I get to see myself in another perspective now, right!?"

Coming to a height that towers over the other two, the blob grows as I rant and wave my hands. Seconds later the troll takes over, "Mon, ya'only see ya'self as dat spirit. There should only be ya, and dem voices."

Like the goblin this figure begins to gain limbs and a head. A deep frost creeps over my spirit; creeps all over my body. This doesn't seem right.

The left figure speaks, "You need to leave this realm…now."

Right one takes over, "He needs to get out…NOW!"

Chilling deeper, something is not right. Something is truly wrong. I need out. They are right, I need out now!

Panicked I search the room and yell, "Troll, I need to return to my body!"

After a second he responds, "Mon, ya be freezing. Ya…"

He is not listening! He must hear me, "Troll, return me to my body. NOW!"

Too late.

Standing before, a figure comes to shape. Long limbs of lurking darkness come to formation. Perfectly crafted plates of death and horror rest across each said appendage. Skulls decorate his doomed demeanor of damnation. Resting upon his large, terrible head is a gray helm of indescribable horror. Spikes reach the ceiling like ice sickles forming towards the sky. Dark, glowing eyes focus on me. So does a long, twisted blade of a thousand souls.

I need out. I NEED OUT. Spinning my body, I try seeing anything of us. Nothing. Colder, it grows so much colder. I need out!

Franticly I claw the air, "Troll, return me, return me!" My voice grows shattered and weak.

Instantly the troll responds, "Mon, wat be happening?! Ya are as cold as death!"

The figure takes a step down.

Why isn't he listening?! "Troll, stop speaking! Return me to my body!"

There is no reply. Uncontrollably I begin scan the room. I am frozen in my place. I want to run so badly, but my legs feel frozen solid.

It reaches the floor and passes the two figures.

So very cold. I want out!

He comes closer, but I cannot do anything. I cannot shield him from my sight. He comes, and I cannot stop him!

"Troll, he is here!"

Towering over me, chill creeps from every inch. I cannot move. All I can do is stare at him. Stare into his unrelenting eyes of darkness.

Clouds of frost float from his move. Fingers crunch leather in his hands. Armor shakes on his being. Right before me, only sword's distance away, he stands.

Unexpectedly and horribly a deep, dark voice erupts, "You are mine."

Spine crunches. Muscles tense. Mind rushes with thought, but it fails in fear. He is here. He is before me. There is nothing I can do.

A distant, confused voice tries to reach me, "Mon, who be dere."

Covering me his deathly frost consumes my being. Every limb quakes with horror.

"Mon?"

Slowly, my near frozen mouth moves downward. Ice seems to dangle from my chin. It is difficult to speak. My tongue feels numb and frozen. But I must.

Trembling I feel my mouth move weakly, "He is…"

There is a pause.

"The Lich King."


	24. Time is now

Quaking.

Everything is quaking. The walls, the figures lost behind the darkness. Everything moves, shakes, quakes. It doesn't seem possible. It doesn't seem possible! How can everything rumble?!

No…that is too farfetched. Nothing is moving. Nothing but me.

Chilled tendrils drive through my unphysical form. It creeps down the tether that binds my spirit to this world and my body. It creeps down and rattles my person. It shakes me down to my very soul.

His dark eyes locked with mine.

I must run. I must flee. But…but I know I cannot. I am trapped. Trapped in his glaring gaze of frozen fury. Trapped by fear. My eyes can barely move from the chill. They slowly scan to the side. I can barely see past his bulk. I can barely see the figures that are mine; see the world that is mine.

Barely hear the voices that are mine to bear, "Mon, I moved dat dust away from'ya face. Mon, wake up!"

Another timid voice erupts, "Worm, get up! I will shake you awa…" It pauses, "WAKE UP!"

I know he tries, but I cannot feel his presence. All I can taste is the bitter bite of deep frost.

A third voice permeates the air. This one is dark; lost in the ages to an evil that cannot even be described, "You are mine."

Once again my eyes are locked with his. Bright blue waves of broken flame waft hurriedly from his possessed eyes. Ice sickles form and break from the metal covering his hardened skin. The world bears down on him, and in turn, bears down on me.

I…I cannot take it.

He speaks again, "Return to me, Hope Blackwood. Return to your master."

Air ripples and chills as the words slip past his iced lips. Nature itself is altered by this figure's presence, by this figure's aura. How can I dare fight him? How can I dare?

Uncontrollably, I feel my lips move, "N-n-n-ever."

Responding is the raspy unseen voice, "Mon, wat be happen'n?!"

Another familiar voice takes over, "Worm, do not let get to you! Fight him! Fight him!"

Fight. Seems like such a powerful word. Seems like the only option, but how strong is it against the true power before me? How strong is a word when it means nothing? How can I fight?

Another distant, almost familiar voice from my head erupts, "You cannot give in! You cannot let him take what is yours!"

Coming from the same area, another voice speaks, "He cannot let this be his fate. He will forget who he is. Who we are."

My voices are right. They are always right. I cannot give in. Fight, you worthless worm, fight! All you have done for days on end on is fight…

The Lich King bellows down to me, "And now you are tired. Do not fight any more, Hope Blackwood. Return to me; return and know perpetual rest."

Rest. I would love to just relax. Be calm with the world. I do not want to have to work any more. Relaxing sounds perfect.

Once again my lips move, "I would love…to just…rest."

I hear voices again. The first one is barely familiar to me, "Mon, wake up! Do not listen ta wat he says!"

The second voice, one that I know, "Worm, I will beat you into consciousness!"

Once again, the almost familiar voice returns, "Mon, stop hitt'n him! Ya gonna break sumtin!"

This voice I recognize, "Don't you talk down to me. Troll! Worm, you hear me, ill beat you!"

The powerful one before me speaks, "Your once friends lied to you. Mislead you. Doomed you. They forced you to listen to their silly, insignificant tales. Now look, you are trapped in your own mind. Lost in their lies."

I am not sure what this voice is, but it comes from in this room, "You must not be fooled! You must continue to fight!"

A voice near that one takes over, "He is losing himself. He…is lost."

The air is calm. I can almost feel it washing over me, the relaxing silence. This is a moment I could live in forever. So…peaceful. So…relaxing.

The Lich King speaks, "Return to me. You are mine."

This time, unlike all the rest, I move my own lips. Sadly, I am able to release but one word, "Return."

The world booms with excitement. Paper rustles, feet trample, voices echo, but, this is my moment. Nothing shall ruin my moment. I just want to rest. I just want peace.

A strange voice fills my calm mind, "Mon, no!"

Another, unfamiliar voice yells, "Worm, no! WORM, DON'T YOU DARE!"

I can hear all the noise of a busy, stressed reality. Unseen figures dare attempt break me of my time. They break me of my revelation.

Before me the Lich takes the sword in his hand and rotates it. The blade tip points toward the ground. With a mighty thrust, the sharp teeth sink in the tender floor. Slowly his eyes graze from the metal tool over to me.

Calmly, perfectly, the Lich King raises his frozen hand towards me. Five, chilled units reach out to me. Ice dangles from their unmoving figures. Gray, cold armor calls to me.

Calls to me as loud as he does, "Take my hand. Return to me."

All I can do is stare downward. Resting in the air is the object of my peace. All I have to do is reach out…and take it. All I have to do is take it.

Again my lips move, "All I have to do…"

The world silences just for me. There isn't a sound to be heard. Not a single sound besides the crackling of the frosty air. Everyone waits for me.

I speak again. "All I have to do…so simple."

A pause.

My lips smack together before I speak, "So simple."

Momentarily I glance down to my hand. Then, very carefully I look up to the Lich King.

I move my mouth, "For the Master."

A distant, stranger's voice interrupts me, "Noooo! Worm!" Sounds of metal scraping against metal fill the air, "I'll kill you before I let you succumb! You stupid, moronic, dumb, worm!"

I don't like that voice. Suddenly another takes over, "Mon, don't do it! It be too late…"

It breaks off for a second before continuing, "He has his spirit, mon. It be…too late."

Glancing back at the Lich King, I gaze at his hand. Slowly I lift my arm. It is heavy. It is feels as if the world drags down upon it. But, I must. I must reach over and return to him. There is no other option.

Inch by inch my arm moves. Creeping forward, my hand draws up. It is almost in line with his. I must do it! There is no time…

My lips part and I speak, "There is no option."

My fingers outstretch. Almost there. The time is finally here. I can finally be at peace; finally rest. Finally let the master carry my will.

Suddenly, a deep, confident voice of a strong, unknown figure penetrates my mind; "There is always an option, young human."

I stop short of the Lich King's hand. What does this figure mean? I am trapped, there is no…

It returns, "We too thought there was no other choice than what our fake masters gave us."

Fake masters? Who does he speak of? Who is he?

The voice continues, "Today, a vessel came to my homeland carrying aboard it unknown figures. Upon the swift winds of nature's grace, this vessel soared swiftly and its crew brought upon our enemies much war."

It pauses. Quickly it continues, "Navigating the skies with skill unseen before, the captain out maneuvered even the strongest of foe's strikes. And the crew, once again, brought great war upon our enemies."

A second passes before he carries on, "Then, as the enemy finally succumbed to our overwhelming power, this vessel came to honor us. And aboard it…figures that shocked even my spirit."

He swallows deeply, "The very humans we strive to fight came to our aid before even our strongest of allies. Our foes fought our foes and showed us the true meaning of courage. The true meaning of strength."

There is a brief pause, "The winds did not bring you humans here to simply fight the enemies at our gates. No, the winds carried you upon its wise wings to allow us to fight the enemies within our souls."

His voice grows louder, "You are more than just a human, young one, you are a brother of the horde; a brother of strife. You bear the burden that we once did."

Unexpectedly the deep darkness of the Lich King returns, "Do not listen to him. The time is now. Return to me."

Instantly the familiar voice returns, "There is always a choice. There is always an option open for your soul to reach for. We too faced the same situation you face now. We faced the same fear, and we choose the route you are choosing now."

It grows louder; with it comes a warmth that washes over my face, "There is no excuse for what we did. There is no reason for all the innocents that fell. We choose the wrong option. We failed. Human, there is always an option."

My body slowly tingles as he speaks, "Today, a vessel soared upon the fate of the winds upon my homeland. Aboard it was a human that matched us orcs more than we match ourselves. There is always a choice human. Do not make the same mistake we did."

Interrupting the orc the Lich King speaks, "He lies to you, Hope. You are mine. This is your fate."

My eyes scan the figure before me. A stream of warmth brings feeling back to my face. It spreads through my limbs. I am no longer trapped. I am no longer bound to the floor. I am now free. Free to do what I wish. Free to choose.

The orc's voice returns, "Hope Blackwood, the Warchief of the Horde, your Warchief, speaks to you. You have a choice. Do not make the same mistake we did."

My body burns. His words sing to me like a sweet melody. I am not trapped. I am not forced to any lone option.

Glaring up at the evil before I speak, "Lich King, the choice is mine and mine alone. I am not yours, and I will not return."

Quickly I begin to lower my arm, but suddenly an expected force grabs it. A deep freeze ripples from the impact spot and look down. Ice runs across my arm. Frost grows from his grip. He has my hand.

His deep voice erupts, "You fool, it is too late! You are nothing to my might. You are mine."

The chill grows. It begins to spread outward. No, no. This will not happen again. This will not happen again! An intense burst of heat ripples through my arm. It collides violently with the frost. Light radiates from my limb. Darkness fades from the corners of my sight, from the walls themselves.

Rage pumps through me. Light glows from my arm. The chilling slows, but is not stopped. Glaring at the Lich again, I speak, "Your might is nothing; I am not yours. I am Hope Blackwood!"

Another burst of light erupts. Sadly, it is not enough. The chill continues. I will fight!

My teeth bear together and I look at my arm as I speak, "I will fight, Lich King!"

Unexpectedly the chill stops. His arm jerks backwards, but still is attached to mine. Looking back at him I see the once shapeless blobs wrapped around the fake King. I recognize them once again. The one on the left bears the form of an insect. Its spiny arms fight the might of the king.

The one on the right resembles a human, but he is too hazy in appearance. Armor drapes his shoulders, but the head ripples into a shapeless form.

Speaking, the right voice yells, "He will never fight alone!"

Chill subsides slowly down my arm. It creeps down my wrist and flows back into the source. Then, with a mighty blast of light, his hand is severed from mine. His arm flies back and leans backwards as the weight of my voices overwhelms him.

My arm glows brightly. As it does a sense of hope builds within. Power flows through my veins. I roll my hand into a fist and glare back at the Lich King. I let his helpless sight fill my eyes. There he stands now, trapped and bound to the floor.

Smiling, I glance down at my arm before looking up to him, "I am Hope Blackwood."

I jerk my arm back and let it hang behind me for a moment. As it holds there, I feel a strange sense of tranquility waft over me. This is my true moment.

My arm suddenly sweeps forward. As it does, I yell loudly, "I will be rid of you!"

An explosion of light fills my mind. My eyes close and I brace the light. Warmth ripples across the surface of my skin. The void of my mind fills with thought. Words crash upon words. Questions tangle my brain.

Suddenly my eyes open, and I see a brown ceiling above me. A strange, green figure leans over my head and looks down at me. His long nose navigates his vision and covers a part of his mouth.

I tilt my head slightly. Foolish idea. A sudden surge of pain rushes through my face. It spreads out like claws of ravenous intent and caresses my brain with tips of agony. I uncontrollably throw my legs off table and brace my head in my palms. _Your fat hands hold it firmly. He knows it; we are back._

Without thinking I open my mouth, "Ugh, like I missed you two."

Unexpectedly a rather familiar voice takes over, "Worm, you are back! Now, prepare…"

Raising my hand, I shoo is rather familiarly loud voice away, "I know, I know, you will yell at me and eventually hit me with something. Great, nice, fantastic."

Another voice taunts the pain in my head, "Deathspeaka'mon, you be alright!"

What? Without turning I speak to him, "Did you just call me a Deathspeaker? Is that some sort of insult?"

He comes out from behind me, "Yes…and…no, mon, I done found dat in me book while ya was busy talk'n to dem voices."

Angrily I glare up at him. Dull lights from the lanterns bounce off the wall and slap my face with whips of unseen fury. Quickly I glance back at the floor.

He, however, laughs, "Mon, I know wat da problem be." I hear him rustling around before he suddenly blocks my sight of the floor with his huge feet, "Here, mon, take one'of dese. Dey will fix wat ails ya."

Foolishly I reach out my hand and wait. A small, circular object falls lightly in my hand. I stare at it for a second and sigh. _You hate pills. He chokes on them all the time._

I stare at it for a moment longer before speaking, "I really shouldn't take anything else from you, but a fire elemental is laying eggs on my brain, so, as long as my head doesn't explode, I don't care."

Quickly I throw the pill to the back of my throat. It dances for a moment. Forcefully I pull the shaking object down and swallow it. The pain rushes to match the speed of my movement and the world tilts slightly. Then, as if magic, the pain vanishes. Following fast afterwards is a rather light feeling and a numbing of my face.

Much better. _You drug addict. He is the master of popping pills._

I attempt to stand, but the feathery feeling topples my motives. A second later I balance myself and pull to my feet. My head rocks side to side and absorb everyone around me. Sadly, my head suddenly whips to the side and I get a face full of troll tusks.

Pulling back a bit, I suddenly remember what he just said and speak, "Why a Deathspeaker?"

He throws me a confused look then laughs, "I see dem pills worked. Anyway, dats wat you be, mon. All ya'syptoms read as a Deathspeaka…ah, da time fo'dis be not now, bruddah."

I let what he says sink in for a moment before glaring at him, "What is wrong with you?"

Suddenly Nathanos yells, "Troll, why does that matter? I am pretty sure there are far more important matters as of right now. You know, like, how the Lich King just tried to devour Hope's soul. You know, that stuff."

I turn to him and shrug, "Well, he didn't, did he?"

_You tell him! He is the man!_

The deep, commanding voice booms, "The human is right, Nathanos. He overcame the lure of the Lich, and to focus on the actions will only distract us."

Yeah, that's exactly what I meant. Well, sort of. _You know that is dead on! He was just paraphrasing, that is all._

He continues, "However, Hope, are you alright?"

My head quickly spins to him. The speed was too much and I stumble a bit before gaining my balance and talking, "Yeah, of course. I shouldn't look too pale or anything. I feel…fine."

From the corner of the room I hear laughing and Carlin's voice, "Hope, you are one hell of a soldier. To be honest, I am not even sure how you are standing right now."

As he finishes, a sweet, unfamiliar voice fills my mind, "I know how."

Quickly I spin. Standing in the room, is a young, tall human woman. Long, golden blonde hair flows around her shoulders like fields of corn illuminated in the sun after a fine spring shower. Her skin is as smooth as the edges of this reality and her eyes beam a bright blue that entrance the soul. I am not sure how I missed her, but I did. _You must be blind. He is as observant as a…drug addict._

She walks over and smiles. I sway weakly in my spot as she stares at me. And, once again, I feel my lips move, "You are pretty."

She smiles a bit more and puts her hand on my face, "You are truly a courageous individual; a true inspiration to us all. You should be proud, Hope Blackwood."

Suddenly she draws her face to mine and places her warm, sweet lips to my cheek. Then, as quickly as she does she pulls away and looks me in the eyes, "My name is Jaina Proudmoore, mage of the Kiron Tor, leader of Theramore and now follower of your strength. It is an honor to meet you."

My knees feel a bit weak. I sway back and forth slightly before focusing. Control yourself, Hope. No time to fall over on your face. _You should thank the woman for being so kind. He is a player!_

Uncontrollably my mouth opens, "Thank you, Miss Proudmoore. I take your words with all my spirit."

Unexpectedly I feel a pressure in my shoulder. My head turns and I see the mighty Warchief standing there.

He smiles at me and gives me a shake, "My brothers and warriors, listen up. Today, we have witnessed courage unlike anything before! Let what you saw today rile your souls! Let it build the rage and power needed to take war back to the enemy that brought it here today; brought it to our walls and to his mind."

Moving forward, he turns to face me. Placing both hands on my shoulders, he looks me firmly in the eyes, "Today, you brought to us a whole new meaning of hope."

His eyes navigate to the floor and then quickly back to me. A mighty smile covers his face and he laughs, "Honor us with your presence on the battlefield when we launch our attack to rid this evil from our lands!"

The young woman looks over to him, "Thrall, what are you talking about?"

He looks over to her then back to me, "The time is right, Jaina. This young human has shown me that. If we do not fight now the enemy will return in force. We must fight them now, at a moment of our choosing."

His eyes navigate back to me, "Human, tell me, will you aid in the assault? Will you aid us in destroying the enemy?"

There is silence for a moment. I scan the room before looking back at him and smiling, "Let us rid this filth from this world."

Instantly he raises his hands in the air and bellows, "Lok'tar Agor!"

The room returns with a roar, repeating the last words to him. I do not know what that is supposed to mean, but I will take it whole-heartedly.

Nathanos suddenly speaks, "Not to ruin your momentum, Warchief, but how do we plan to bring our wrath to the enemy. And aren't we doing this a bit too hastily?"

Thrall lets go of me and turns to Nathanos, "Commander, there ia still enough of a force here, especially with the arrival of the Tauren!" he pauses briefly, "However, you do make a point, we do not know where they went."

The room fills with silence. Everyone looks at each other in a fit of confusion and frustration. Then the Warchief nods and prepares to speak.

But Before the Warchief can say a word, Jon speaks, "I know where the deathknight went."

The whole room seems to rotate and stare at him. He pauses for a moment before speaking, "I watched him carefully. I would remember that face; the face that brought me anger, the face of that which killed me."

He pauses, "He went to Azshara. He followed the river and entered Azshara."

The Warchief eyes Jon for a second before turning back and looking over to Vol'jin. The troll makes his way to him and they speak for a moment.

Suddenly the Warchief turns back to Jon and shouts, "You shall be sent with my finest scouts to the land of forgotten pasts! Find this enemy; show them us the evil is so we can strike!"

Jon jumps to his feet and nods. The Warchief walks over to him and begins to talk. The rest of the room begins rushing around. Everyone seems to be in a panic, but, fortunately for me, I can barely focus. _You are lucky, aren't you? He finally has found some use for his wandering mind._

Warriors begin rushing to the Warchief's side and men begin filing into some sort of formation. As for me, well, I grow tired of this room and of hurried war. I need my moment of peace.

Turning, I silently leave the room and make my way down the corridor and out of the large throne building. I make a right and begin walking down an unfamiliar path. Hopefully I will get lucky and end up where I want to be.

However, as I make my way down the path I hear Marris shout at me, "Worm, where do you think you are going?"

Without stopping I yell back to him, "I have to do my job, Nathanos. I have been neglecting for far too long."

I hear his footsteps and within seconds he is beside me. Before I can say a word I hear more, rapid footsteps, and a weak bark from my side. Wriggler! I look down at him. He looks at me, barks again and then suddenly coughs violently. This time he vomits up a large, black object before picking it up and wagging its tail.

A bomb? Really?

I sigh and continue forward. There is a brief moment of silence before he speaks again, "Worm, where are we going?"

I shrug, "To do what I have always done. To bury some bodies."

We are quiet for a few seconds then something enters my mind.

I wait for a moment then speak, "I have a question. Where did that woman come from?"

Nathanos laughs, "Worm, you lost little man, like she said, she is a mage. She does that a lot."

I would question the logic behind that statement, but I suddenly lose myself in thought. I cannot help but think about what was said by the Warchief. All I can think about is the one line he said. The one line that brings back memories of a tiny gnome from a time that seems so long again, yet so recent.

_You will bring a whole new meaning to hope._


	25. Ruins

It's been too long.

The blade sinks slowly into the red rock below. This ground is nothing like the dead, dry clumps of rotted soil in Eastern Plaguelands. This stuff is almost twice as hard to crack and three times as stubborn to move. Stupid rocks. _You hate these blasted chunks! He wants them to explode. You could go get some dynamite._

I could…

Ah, no, shut up! Bah, you two and your ridiculous schemes. _You got that right. He has to fair, I didn't suggest dynamite…those bombs from the ship, though._ Those did leave massive craters in their wake. Wait, no, no. I will only use my shovel. Like always. _You are even more stubborn than the ground! He is as unmoving as the stones!_

Chunks of red soil sprinkle my feet as I ram the blade tip into the ground. Almost there…sort of. _You aren't even remotely close. He needs at least two more feet to get the guy's legs in._

Both you need to shut it. You guys make it that much more difficult to do this. _You are right. He is so true…I am so proud._

Suddenly I am drawn from my mind as Marris speaks, "Lost in your head, eh, worm?"

I look over to him and sigh, "Yeah, it is rather hard not to while doing this."

I sigh then shake my head. Sweat rolls down my cheek. Leaning backwards I take a deep breath than raise my arm. With one clean sweep of my face I defeat the swarm of hot perspiration and pull it from my forehead. My body rocks forward, and I find myself bracing on the handle of the shovel.

Air draws heavily into my chest and is released equally as deeply before I speak, "This is definitely not like the Plaguelands."

Instantly Nathanos laughs. He leans back, braces his…spine…in his hands before letting out a rather sickening cracking sound from his back. His body flops forward and he laughs again.

Turning to me he speaks, "You got that right, worm." He looks up as if he sees something, "Ah yes, green and yellow skies. Soil as dry as an embalmed corpse and as firm as tanned leather."

Chuckling, he shakes the shovel partially stuck in the soil before continuing, "MmmmmMMMM. Fine place indeed."

This time I laugh. I shake my head and respond, "Such great memories." I pause before speaking, "Actually…those memories were terrible. Nightmarish even, but…that was our home."

He shrugs, "Yeah, completely different from this place. These lands kinda remind me of a demon lord's spa resort." He wipes his head, "Sadly, he is bathing in all of our sweat and hot steam."

I smack my lips in a sign of disgust, "That is a horrible, horrible image." I suddenly, and oddly, think of something, "Wait, how do you still sweat?"

He makes to speak, but quickly closes his mouth. After a second he looks over to me with a confused look, "Worm, I still breath. I don't even need to, but my body still does it." He shrugs, "I guess my body doesn't know what is good for it anymore."

I smile then look at the dirt, "Sounds about right."

Instantly distracted, I begin examining the ground. Red lines of musty darkness commingle with patches of orange. Both colors draw a bit of anger from my soul. Couple that with my already annoyed being then you get a perfect match for frustration. _You are as bothered as an angry whelp. He could almost puke fire he is so mad._

My head shoots upward and I oddly shout at nothing, "Ah, why can't you stupid patches of ground be like the Plaguelands?!"

I shift sight downwards, glare at the soil and yell, "Don't you look at me that way, ground. I don't care if I mentally asked you that question already!"

Nathanos speaks before I can even think about what I just said, "Worm, did the soil steal the remaining bits of your sanity? I mean I know we are on only…grave number four after four hours, but still…"

He cannot help but chuckle again, "Does worm need a nappy nap?"

He laughs as I turn to look at him. Again he speaks, "We may both miss our decayed abode, but we were both bound to leave eventually."

A question randomly and oddly pops in my head. Shifting sight I look at him and narrow my vision. I attempt to speak, but I am unable to form any words. I take a second to calm myself then I turn my body.

Once again I open my mouth. Nothing. Come on, Hope, it isn't that hard of a question, ask! _You need to ask. He…screw it, I will do it for him._

Suddenly words escape from my mouth, "Why did you leave, Marris? Or better yet, what took you so long to leave?"

Hey, that second one wasn't what I wanted to know! _You know it is. He just didn't know how to word it right._

His eyes narrow. I can I almost feel his hate from here. He rotates in his spot, but his eyes do not move at all. Fingers grip the blade in his hand firmly. Eyes lock harder and angrier. Uh oh, he is going to kill me. _You are too worried. He…no, I think he is right._

Oddly he sighs and readies to speak, but nothing happens. He looks up then looks down. His eyes sweep the soil. He takes a small step backwards. His face contorts slightly. From here it looks as if he is remembering something.

After a few seconds the muscles that still remain for his lips curve down. Eyebrows of sorrow arch in a manner most displeasing and odd for the individual of whom they are worn by. I think…he is sad.

I am confused. I take a step forward and speak, "Marris? I am sorry."

He doesn't look at me. No, he continues to wander in his head. Something is definitely going on in there. I watch as he opens his mouth again.

At first he whispers something to himself. Then, after a brief pause, he utters only two words, "She promised…"

What? What does that mean? What does that have to do with anything? Did Sylvanas promise him something? I am now completely confused. _You act if that is something new. He is hilarious._

Before I can continue with this topic, a deep, rumbling voice barrels from the walls above, "Warriors, the time is now! Return to the Warchief, he readies the troops!"

Oh well, I guess that is for another day. _You bet it is. He doesn't have time to worry about it._

I turn quickly and run hurriedly to the gaping hole in the wall. I try to avoid the bodies leading in and out of the new entrance, but I trip over a fallen…cow? I balance myself and look down at the furry creature. It looks like Lughoof, but its face is longer. It really looks like an upright cow. _You are slow. He saw some on the odd mounts earlier._

Instantly I look up. I watch in the sky as the winged creatures dart back and forth in an odd scouting pattern. Many of these creatures have orcs on their backs, but I do notice many of them have the same cowmen on their backs. I am surprised I missed these. _You are very, very oblivious. He is not always the most observant._

I feel a sharp pressure in my chest and quickly look down. Nathanos glares at me as he passes, "Move it, worm. No time for site-seeing."

At that I follow in quick pursuit after the undead. We dart past the many structures and into the tall tower. We cross the rope bridge in a matter of seconds and hurry down the winding path. As we round a narrow, sharp bend, we are overcome by voices. All of them intertwine and interrupt each other. Seconds later we pass another bend and before use stands a large, organized crowd of horde troops.

Hundreds of orcs, cowmen, and trolls gather in front of the building. Their voices combine together in a thunderous roar of sounds and chatter. Nathanos and I slow as we near the stairs. We cannot make it past the small army here, so we come to a stop and wait.

We do not have to wait long.

Footsteps fill the air. The heads of a hundred brave warriors turn. Silence slowly sweeps the crowd. Soon only the sound of rattling armor can be heard as well as the sounds of footsteps. The whole city seems to come to a calm; comes to a calm as they wait and anticipate.

Emerging from the entrance, the Warchief makes his appearance. He stands tall upon the stairs. Light bounces delicately from his armor, illuminating the air around him. Firm eyes lock upon the crowd and draw them into a state of awe. A presence of a true leader and true commander radiates from his being.

The army begins to chatter once again. They peer to one another and speak quietly, yet loudly. Sounds build slowly, but are quickly ended. Raising his arms in the sky, the Warchief motions for the crowd to quiet. Without hesitation the army halts it's talking.

Lowering down, his arm comes to his side. Eyes scan the crowd a second time. His mouth opens and the deep, bellowing voice echoes across the hollowed halls of the cavern, "Soldiers! Warriors! Brothers! Children of the Horde, we have received dire word…"

He pauses briefly. His eyes sweep quickly again, "The scouting part dispatched earlier this very day…was attacked."

The crowd replies with shouts of anger and rage. He raises his hands again and the gathering is quickly silenced. Once again he speaks, "All the brave warriors of the party died a glorious death upon the battlefield. The scourge themselves sent us a very clear sign of this."

He pauses briefly as he composes himself, "But we must not let their deaths be in vain. We know the enemy did not walk away from the fight unscarred. We must use this time now to strike back!"

Before the crowd can even respond, he continues. His voice is firmer, angrier now, "We must use this moment of fate's choosing to bring the end to the enemy! We must show them that despite their fierce actions that we will not back down!"

He turns so that his shoulder is now facing the crowd and then he speaks, "And with the aid of our allies we have the instrument for their demise!"

Jaina and Vol'jin suddenly appear from the doorway. The young woman shifts by the orc and stops at his side. Vol'jin takes a position on the opposite side of the Warchief. Once the two are positioned, Thrall shifts back to the crowd.

He motions his mace at Jaina, "The mighty Jaina from Theramore has offered her assistance with the assault!"

He pauses, "With her power she shall open a portal to the heart of Azshara! She shall give us way to bring an ends to the evil!"

Instantly he throws his mace upward. Cheers fill the air. Armor rattles as warriors dance, and weapons clank against shields. Grunts echo loudly.

In a flash the weapon is lowered, and equally as quickly the crowd is hushed. Weapons come to a firm base and voices crawl creepily back down the producers' throats.

Thrall sweeps the crowd again, "Let there be no more delay!" He points his weapon to Jaina once again. "My lady, bring us the passage for our vengeance!"

_You heard the man! Yes, he heard the need for vengeance and a way for it!_

Quickly Jaina nods at Thrall before turning to the steps. She marches down to the base of the short staircase before altering her stance. Her hands majestically move upwards. Delicate fingers dance across steps of air. Arms angle perfectly. Her eyes close while lips, calm and cool, coerce words from her throat.

Blue energy bursts from her fingers. Tendrils of mystic power wrap loosely upon her dress and creep down to her feet. Dust departs from her presence as circles of spinning magic draw themselves into the ground.

White streaks of slippery clouds collide with the bases of the initial magic. A flash of light forces my eyes shut. A burst of wind follows suit. All the magic within her jerks up and concentrates suddenly in her hands. Black pulses are covered by wafts of white and silver, while spikes of gray jab out in all directions.

Then, as commanded, the beautiful sight finishes its purpose. Floating before the army and for the world, an outline of crisp, sparkling blue gives way to a sight of ruins. It is a portal_. You got to see your first one! He is now a man!_

The Warchief laughs loudly then takes a step forward. Oddly he shakes his head and looks down. His voice is softer this time, "I apologize, my warriors, but I will not be able to accompany you on your trip. I must stay here and guard the city. I must protect the people. I must serve from here."

He pauses again, "It saddens me deeply that will not able not shed blood along side you warriors, but do not lose vigor!"

His body rotates and he looks over to Vol'jin, "Mighty Vol'jin has offered to take part in the grand fight ahead!"

The crowd cheers again, but Vol'jin is the one to silence them this time, "Meh'bruddahs! Too long have I sat behind dese walls! Too long have I done nuttin wit me time! But now, me bruddahs, I shall fight once again!"

Thrall claps loudly before he takes over, "Not only that, but the symbol of honor, the symbol of courage shall be the first one to step through this portal!"

Oh no.

He quickly turns to me, "Come, Hope Blackwood, stand before the army before you! Stand and show them the way!"

I feel a sharp pressure in my side than Nathanos, and he laughs, "Looky there, Hope, you get to lead them all!"

My head turns and I glare at him, "You are coming with me, moldy."

The smile instantly fades from his face just as the cries from the gathering overwhelm our thoughts. I move forward slowly. The many heads and examining eyes of the horde warriors bear down on me. I shift past Vol'jin very carefully and take a spot in front of the swirling vortex of pulsating energies.

I feel Nathanos slap my shoulder from behind. Honestly I thought he was going to hit me harder, but I guess he doesn't want a show.

Thrall suddenly shouts again, "Go forth, Hope, and lead the men to the ruins of broken past!"

Suddenly my heart pace quickens. I know that line. I would remember it anywhere. Lead them to their deaths. Lead them to their deaths at the ruins of broken past. Vengeance there. I cannot. I must not! _You need to calm down. He doesn't know what that means._

Harder, the rattling instrument of flowing frustration and fury bounces within the armored chambers of my chest. Sweat beads heavily within my pores. Muscles lock firmly in place. I must not.

Unexpectedly my thought process is broken by Nathanos, "Worm, do you want me to hold you hand?"

He speaks just above a whisper, but loud enough for me to want to hit him, "No…I have this. Just give me a moment."

He chuckles than speaks again, "Worm, do you remember the lake outside your house?"

What? _You know he is crazy. He thinks Nathanos is still loco._ Fine, fine, just humor him, Hope, he is still confused from earlier. I nod and he continues, "All those little boys and girls swimming and playing?"

Once again my head bobs and he speaks, "Well, do you remember the first time you went to the lake?"

I do not nod this time, but he carries on, "Your father took you to the banks and told you to take your time."

He gets closer and his hand tightens its grip, "You remember what he did next?"

I think hard and carefully. What….NOOO. Before I can react he pulls my shoulder back, "He gave you a tiny…little…"

He throws my shoulder forward and with it my body. "Push!"

Everything blurs instantly. My body locks and convulses as what feels like a hundred tons of raw, pure energy rushes across my flesh. Seconds later everything slows; everything except the churning within my stomach.

Wobbly legs draw me forward. Unfeeling hands sweep the air for unknown objects. Sadly, eventually these said flailing limbs catch a cold, unmoving individual.

Chuckling, the chilled man talks, "Worm, I see you do not care for inter dimensional either. You bore me, worm."

After a second I am able to gain bearing on my own two legs. I sway a bit before coming to a complete stop. It is then I notice small flashes of light erupting behind Nathanos. They are only simple sparks, but each time on occurs a member of the army appears before my very own eyes. _You see that they are teleporting too. He sees them good._

Vol'jin shifts past Nathanos and myself. As he moves he speaks to us, "Ya may need'ta make room fo'da oddas coming, mon."

Nathanos quickly turns then walks away from the flashes. I too turn from the bright indications of forthcoming individuals and follow after the other two. Instantly my eyes draw upon a sign of horror.

My veins feel as if they shrink and freeze. Before me is a wooden staff. Spikes covered with traces of dry and fresh blood are wrapped with tattered purple fabric. A sheet rests firmly in the middle with a mark I would never forget.

Scourge.

Vol'jin spits on the flag then shakes his head, "Dese monsters disgust me, mon."

Nathanos sighs and I can see him raise his arm, "I hope you have more spit where that came from Volee, " he pauses briefly to let us navigate our sight, "They gave us a nice row of them."

Up the ridge a bit another purple symbol of terror rests firmly for all to see. And behind that one, a few yards away, is another one. The pattern continues as far as the eye can see. They stick out easily amongst the blood red grass, but hide eerily in the darkened skies.

Suddenly I hear Carlin's voice from behind, "Ominous clouds, no?"

Nathanos turns and glares at him, "Thank you, sir, what would we do without you?"

Carlin shrugs, "I would say you would perish, but…that would pointing out the obvious."

Nathanos grunts and shakes his head, "Fair enough."

Nathanos alters direction back to the army. Oddly he grunts before shaking his and head sighing. He suddenly throws his palm in his own face and sighs again, "This isn't suspicious or even possibly noticeable."

I am not sure what he is talking about, but sarcasm fills every word of that sentence. Quickly I pivot on my heels and peer down the hill. A mob of teal, green, brown, all sorts of colors mesh together as each warrior attempts to find his footing upon the narrow passage. An army standing amidst a field. Definitely is not great camouflage.

Instantly I hear Vol'jin yell out loudly, followed by disgruntled shouts from Nathanos. I, however, grow distracted from the surroundings.

It is now that I notice the sloping ridge near where we entered this odd land. I also notice the small valley below. Gray, dusty pillars slump tiredly against walls of tan soil. White bases of once proud buildings rest in the shadows of their former glory. The entire valley is filled with ruins upon ruins. This is the place…ruins of broken past…

Vol'jin's voice booms expectedly, "Soldahs! We be ready! Da enemy taunts us even now, before dere doom! Come, let us silence dere overzealous mouths!"

My eyes drift calmly from the ruins, and I swiftly begin walking forward uncontrollably. Are you two messing with me? _You are reading way too much into this. He is so crazy._

I increase my pace for a moment to catch the rather hurried hump of flesh that is Nathanos. Carlin calmly keeps pace next to him and shows signs of joy as I come near them both.

He oddly chuckles, "Hope, you seem nervous. First actual formal military action got you down?"

Now that he mentions it, "Eh, kind of. Rather odd that it bothers me considering what has happened."

He simply nods as we pass by a Scourge banner and slowly reach the top of the hill.

Carlin then speaks, "This is different, Hope. You and your enemy face each other. Weapons drawn, hate at the ready. This is very different…Hope…"

We pass by another banner as we round a bend and follow a cliff wall. The footsteps roar behind me in mass, and I with each unified step my heart feels as if it stops slightly. We come to a straight, but narrow plateau. Another banner passes.

Another. They seem to be placed closer together now.

Again Carlin speaks, "Something is out of place here."

Nathanos laughs to himself, "Oh, you mean us? Yeah, we do seem rather odd here."

Mark, of whom I didn't even notice before, chuckles loudly. Nathanos glances over to him and nods before looking back forward. The boy has been rather quiet ever since his brother…died. _You think he is quieter now? He cannot be serious; that boy hasn't made a real noise yet._

Actually, what about Jon? How could we possibly forget about him?!

Quickly I glance to Carlin and talk softly, "Carlin…what happened to Jon?"

Carlin sighs and throws a passing glance at Mark who instantly frowns and sighs.

He then looks at me and shakes his head, "We have already discussed that, Hope. Mark knows the fate of his brother as well as we do."

I look at him before talking, "How do you know for certain? How do you even known the scouting party was even assaulted?"

He sighs again before frowning at me, "An hour ago we found a cart outside the ruined gates. The scouting party moved incredibly fast, and sadly, was delivered to us just as quickly. Piece by piece in a scourge wagon."

Instantly Vol'Jin turns to Carlin and glares, "Mon, dis not be da time for dat. Forgot about it."

Silence follows after. Only the sounds of the rhythmic stomping fill the void. I guess that is how they knew the scouting party was killed. _You did wonder that. He knew we all did._

Nathanos breaks my thought and ends the worrying, "Anyway…back to prior conversations. I think what you were trying to say, old man, is that you feel a trap coming."

Carlin looks around a bit confused. I am not certain what took hold of him, but he looks very distracted. A few seconds later he sighs deeply, "Yes, in more or less words, that is precisely what I was inferring"

Vol'jin takes over this time, "Yah, mon, dis be feeling like a trap. Alas, it be too late, bruddahs."

The troll stretches his arm before continuing, "We march together towards whateva' destiny awaits us. Pray dem gods be favoring us dis day."

He pauses briefly, "Pray, dey at least be favoring neither of us."

Nathanos nods in response, "Amen, Vol'jin. Amen."

A sudden, painful silence covers the loud force. Despite the marching; despite the trampling of dead grass and the occasional skeleton; despite the breathing; despite the pounding in my ears – there is nothing. The world comes to a calm as we march over the top of the ridge.

The narrow plateau breaks into a sloping field of red, green and yellow grass. Sound itself departs this forsaken field that we slowly find ourselves marching upon. Beyond all of this, beyond all that we can grasp at this moment is a tranquil sea beset by a tormenting sky of blackened clouds.

Amongst the teal waves, sprinkled with sparkles of white, blue and black, is a large, gray object. Massive purple sails rise into the sky as the wind gives them their bulk. A ship, but…from the banners I swear that has to be Scourge.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" A deep, eerily familiar voice booms from our sides.

My head twists, and I catch sight of a massive, yellowish green tower reaching towards the skies. Connected to the spiky tower is a large, flatter structure. Reels of stretched green moss creeps amongst the crumbling stone structure.

I scan the building down to the base. There, I notice a blackened figure. Next to this one is another and another. Almost a half dozen stand firmly. But one stands out the most. One stands out above the rest. One bears only one ear and the scars of battle. One I will never forget.

"You living are far too predictable!" He speaks loudly and confidently. As he does, more figures emerge from a large path behind him. "My master foretold of this day."

The deathknight laughs as his small force of knights position themselves, "He told me that the beginning of the end would occur here."

He takes a step forward, "Hope Blackwood, he told me…"

He takes another step forward, "That all actions before this day would lead to this one. That all the actions set in motion by my forces would lead you…and most notably…myself…to this exact location!"

Another step, "And now he speaks to me; Speaks through me!"

Another step forward, "I, Herald of the Lich King himself, have waited for this moment for far too long. And so has he…"

He stops at the base of tower and the beginning of the shore, "Even as the remaining bodies are sent back to the master, he speaks to me!"

He laughs, "Hope Blackwood, the Lich King hoped to return you to his ranks with subtle ease, but you resisted. So now you have led an army consisting of the stubborn Commander Blightcaller and Vol'jin himself to me!"

He laughs again, "Such fortuitous circumstances."

Suddenly Nathanos yells from my side, "Fool, do you think that your pathetic pack of knights can defeat me?! I have spit upon the corpses of your best men, and you dare mock my strength as well as the horde's with this?! Fool, you insult me!"

Oddly his hand raises into the air, "Fool? Today, Nathanos Blightcaller, no simple knights rest before you. No Nathanos, you must see…."

A flash of purple and black energy rushes through his arms. Clouds of musky gray swirl upon his fingertips. Wafts of air displaces from his area, while tendrils of dark magic clash amongst the skies. Energy encircles his body. In a blur the ground trembles and all that he creates, all that he does, converges into a horrifically magnificent display of magic.

Purple caresses ripples of darkness. Black bounces delicately off white streaks of weary wind. At a fine point energy forms and directs downwards towards the soil, downwards towards it destinations. Instantly the bolt of power accelerates into the ground.

A tidal wave of wind explodes from the soil. Walls of dust scattered and flee in all directions as the ripple finds its way towards. In a hurry the wall crashes into our bodies and vanishes into nothings.

The air calms and he speaks, "You must see, Nathanos, that today, the Master himself descends upon you…"

Bursts of dirt shoot into the air. Dozens upon dozens of bony arms break forth. White limbs claw the air fiercely. All the ground resting before him cracks and gives forth to the shifting units below.

Seconds pass, and as they do, entire figures of sun bleached bones bore forth from the soil. Amongst them blue warriors of tall heights, of horrible features, of unimaginable strength commingle. Frozen death itself clings to the skin and armor of these fallen warriors.

Drooling ghouls come to rank and fill the gaps the other two fail to reach. Hundreds upon hundreds of undead stand ready and willing.

Then, as if the numerous army before him wasn't enough, he laughs and raises his arms like an eagle spreads its wing. Instantly the earth quakes and trembles. Blobs of pink, gray, and white flesh erupt from the path behind him. Skeletal fish men rush down the passage while Abominations of unknown origin shove all from their paths.

What have I done? What have I done?! I know what I have done. I did exactly what I feared. I did exactly what I knew what was going to happen. I led these men…to their deaths. I led them…_You did nothing of the sorts. He has learned nothing! You must calm yourself. He must ready himself for war!_

Even now the ground trembles to the might of the Scourge. We are now horribly outnumbered! _You only see the instruments of fragility and futility. He must be strong. He is the symbol this army needs. You are the hope they need. You must not falter now._

The army before us shifts and forms. It stretches across the beach. Rotting ground spreads from their very existence. My heart thunders a beat of fear and hopelessness. _You must relax. He must remember his bottle of water…of holy water._

I suddenly hear Nathanos' voice, "Sweet mother. Now these are odds I have been waiting for."

Carlin speaks after, "Trap indeed. There is nowhere to run."

Vol'jin oddly chuckles, "Nowhere to hide, mon."

Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I have led these men. There is no way we can win…

You must remember. He must fight. You must see the time is now. He must know…we will fight beside him…he must release our fury.

How can I fight? How can it be possible? The numbers…_You must ignore what you see. He knows our volume is corrected by our quality._ What do we do? How can we…_You just fight! He must battle!_

Yes, that is the only way. _You are a warrior. He is the champion._ You are right! I must fight! _You are ready the time is now. He must charge! He must free our fury!_

I raise my shovel and grip it firmly. My mind yells to me, but I do not care. My heart guides me now, and I must release our fury upon the enemies! I must charge!

Taking a deep breath, I relax. Breath, Hope, breath. The time is now. I then take a step forward. Then another.

I hear Nathanos behind me, "Hope, what are you doing?!"

His voice is nothing now. Release them. Release their fury! Release through a charge for the ages to remember! Suddenly my mouth opens and I speak, "You have falsely led me for too long, Deathknight. Today, I take this fight to you!"

My feet whip forward. Dust parts in my wake. Grass crumbles while the air dances across my body. The hill gives me speed. The hill fuels my charge. I will release their fury upon them! _You will unleash our fury! He will unleash everyone's fury!_

From below, my target glares at me. He lowers his arms and draws his weapon, "Today you return to the Master!"

He motions in the air with his sword. Cries of hundreds of undead fill the air. Their ranks shift and the army moves like a tidal wave gaining speed.

From behind I hear Nathanos, "Slow down, Worm!" He sounds close, "Like hell I'd let you go in alone!"

From behind him, "Bruddahs, show dem the courage of the horde! Lok'tar Agor! Victory or death!"

The ground quakes. Nature itself quakes in the presence of the battle to come. Battle cries fill the air. Orc grunts from behind grow louder. I can hear their footsteps. They are gaining speed on. Suddenly, I see a green figure appear in the corner of my eye.

They move at speeds I have never seen before. _You fuel them! He guides them!_

The army before us nears. Our forces gather together as one wall of might. Our forces align for one last push. Our forces prepare for vengeance!

Undead faces clearer than ever. Only feet away!

Come on, scourge!

Almost clashed together!

Victory or death!

Weapons clank against weapons. Blades thud against exposed flesh. Screams of the wounded mix with sounds of the skirmishing. The armies collide upon the broken soil of these forgotten lands.

Blades glide past my face. Claws swipe at my body. I dart side to side. Orcs brush past me at all angles, while Scourge fight and break before me. This is a battle! This is what Carlin told me of! Different, indeed! _You loves it! He fights like a true warrior!_

Dozens of foes lay before me. Orc bodies fall to my sides. But the battle continues to rage on! Sounds drive the souls of the warriors, while enemy blades bring their souls peace, the irony of war.

I too swing my blade in sweeping motions, letting only the bones of my enemy slow me down. But as I drive undead after undead, I find that my actions are futile. No matter how many I maim, there is always more. Always another.

Keep fighting, Hope! Keep fighting!

Suddenly, as we strive across these broken fields, the dark voice calls out to me. The dark voice of a rather disgruntled Deathknight, "Hope, show yourself! Bring yourself to me, as you so wished to do!"

Where does he call from?! Where is he? Thrash through them. Make a path to your enemy! Destroy the fools that dare stand in your path. Fight on, Hope, fight on! _You must calm yourself. He must slow down._

Within seconds enemies have cleared themselves very graciously from my blaring rage. My eyes sweep past the crumbled corpses of scourge soldiers, and, it is at that very moment that I realize what I have done. Through my blind fury, my blind stupidity, I beat down the enemy, but…

Now I stand alone…

"Fool, may the darkness grant your raging soul peace!" The voice bellows from near.

I can almost feel his breath. I can almost feel his hate. I know he is near. Looking up just slightly, I can see a blackened figure. I can feel his breath. I can feel his hate. He is here. Looking up further, I see his face. And above that…his blade…

"Damnation finds all, Blackwood!" His voice is so loud now

At that moment, the world seems to freeze. Eyes of desperation sweep side to side in hopes of an escape route. It is then they see that the field has spread. They see that the warriors stretch in all directions, leaving pockets of space to be filled by only the dead. And here I am, standing amongst one of those pockets, only the dead to accompany me.

The dead and the deathknight.

His blade lingers heavily over his head. His eyes burn brightly down upon me. All his rage rattles and shakes his soul, and all for me. He makes ready to strike. Energy ripples through his menacing muscles. Force draws the conclusion towards me.

I close my eyes.

I hear him yell. A battle cry of victory bellows from his lungs. Then, oddly, I hear him cry again. This time, however, it seems different. Opening my eyes, I half expect him to be hoping I would do so. But he is no longer near me.

No, he stumbles backwards. A small, wooden object protrudes from his chest. Actually, three small wooden sticks protrude from his chest. Quickly, I look back and see the string of a sturdy bow singing songs of salvation for me. Nathanos, standing a short distance from me, glares angrily in the direction of the deathknight.

Quickly Nathanos looks away to strike at another foe, but I turn back to the deathknight. The fool glares at his wounds. Blood creeps from the wounds like sap from a tree. Anger flows from his eyes like steam from an engine. He looks up again, but this time he peers not at me, but at Nathanos.

"I grow tired of your guardian, Hope!" He screams as he takes a step forward, "Be gone, pest!"

Hurriedly he pulls his blade back. Swirls of black and gray dance across the runes of his blade and gather at the point. In a flash he whips it forward, and from it, a large, blackened skull ripples forth.

Green death follows quickly behind the spinning skull. Sparks of gray escape the darkness and crawl into the surrounding calm air. Smoke pours from the two sockets. The same two sockets that aim directly for him.

For Nathanos.

My feet guide me. I move faster than I ever thought I could. Bodies do not slow me. Mounds of grass do not hinder me. Muscles screaming tales of trembling pain do not hamper me. I must return the favor that this brave warrior did for me!

My eyes lock with his figure. He stands unprepared for what is to come. Everything blurs. Only the throbbing of a worried heart can be heard. Only the pumping of crazed blood can be felt.

He is so close.

I reach my arm out. At that very moment I see the dark death hurtling towards him.

He is right here!

I grab his arm. He looks at me confused. I pull myself past him and spin.

I got him!

A sudden force throws my body. Nathanos flies back in the opposite direction than I. Ground exerts pain through my body as I bounce limply. The world spins horrifically. Everything is a blur. My body feels weak…

Nathanos!

Pulling my torso upwards, I attempt to see where he landed. I cannot see him. No, no, he hit him. I must get to him! But, I cannot move. Why do I feel so weak?! Come on, Hope, stabilize yourself, move!

My arms brace the ground, but it does no good. My eyes navigate downwards to see why they are unable to function. It is then I notice something odd on my left arm. Red runs down the sides of my forearm and towards the ground.

NO! Nathanos was hit! Move, Hope, move. _You…you. He…needs to look closer_.

What are you two talking about?! Help me up! Help me get to Nathanos. _You cannot. He cannot get to Nathanos._ Just help me focus, help me lift my…

Blood.

My eyes lock with my side. Tattered clothing rests broken around a dark wound. Blood climbs from all angles and hides within the worn fragments of armor. This is not Nathanos' blood…it is mine.

Weakly my head falls back. Everything spins. The ringing slowly returns. I cannot feel my body. I cannot move. Nathanos wasn't hit…I was.

The world seems so distant. Even as Nathanos enters my sight, it all feels so far away. It is as if my body isn't even here. You must…He…will…

Nathanos' eyes sweep my body and lock onto the same wound I regrettably noticed. His hands fly to cover the source. His face contorts and alters as he fights with my body.

He looks at me angrily and yells, "Worm?! What is wrong with you!? What is wrong with you?! Why didn't you let me take that?!"

I look to him. His eyes glare upon me. But it is not his fault. He is not angry with me. No, he is confused. For the first time ever, Nathanos Marris is confused.

I oddly smile at him and reply, "Because, Nathanos…"

My head rolls to the side and then back to him, "Because you have always done the same for me."

Everything feels so light. Everything but the growing ringing, "Because…you are my friend."

His mouth opens for a moment then quickly closes. He looks back at my wound and a surge of rage returns. Moments later frustration turns to desperation and his voice sounds weaker, "Worm, stop bleeding. My hands do not have enough flesh to stop it! Stop bleeding!"

My head rolls away from him for a second. There, standing at the edge of his forces. Simply standing as orcs crash against undead, as his warriors fall and kill, the deathknight looks upon me.

Ringing quickly begins interrupting all sound, but, I can make out the few words he says as he turns away from me and makes his way back into the crowd, "You are free now, brother."

Rolling limply back to Nathanos, I watch as he struggles with the futile. His hands move awkwardly and he begins throwing his head and yelling to others. Then, strangely, he looks back at me.

This face I have never seen before, but I know all too well. It is the same face I have grown accustomed to. It is the same face I have had to make over and over. It is the same face I give every individual I hold in my arms. The same face before I close their eyes and ready my shovel.

Nathanos is giving me the same look I give everyone before I have to bury them.

I am dying.


	26. Hope

Warriors fight. Minions of mindless masters mingle with the mess of brave fighters. My eyes roll side to side. I take in the whole fight while I lay here. I take in the whole scene as I rest here. I take it all in.

We are losing.

Orcs fight bravely, trolls thrust spears tenaciously, Tauren stomp and crush enemies honorably. But they are not enough. No, not all of them can possibly defeat the numbers of scourge that trample this field; that disgrace this place.

However, no scourge dare come to where I lay. None dare to come challenge the supremacy of that which is Nathanos' and mine. They have no plan to come to this pocket, no need to come to this near empty space. No need.

Only the dead lay here.

Nathanos claws at my flesh still. All hope lost from his eyes. Ringing fills the void that is my mind. I cannot hear even my own voices. Silence, silence besides the squeal of tormenting cries; the same calls that bring a sensation of freezing fingers across my body.

So cold, so…very…cold…

Only the dead lay here.

The ringing intensifies. It is almost as bad as when I was upon the table in Thrall's chambers. That seems so long ago. Almost feels as if years have passed since that moment. Feels as if all that happened there…was…so…long…ago…

All the very same besides this rapidly increasing call. It grows louder than before. Never was it this bad. Never. I cannot focus. But there is no need to focus. Just relax. Breathe, hope, breathe.

Ringing grows.

This must be the last sound all those who make their residence in the soil hear. Such a horrific sound. So…unsettling. So…chilling. The world blurs. All the warriors upon the field vanish slowly; their cries silenced by the ring. Nathanos' face all but a distant memory.

Vengeance

A voice. An unknown voice.

_Death_.

I do not know that voice, or this one.

Un-resting!

Who…who are you?

_Vengeance._

The chiming quiets…with it…come these voices. All these voices. Too many to comprehend. Too many to take it. Too many…

_Destroy_

_Lead us_

_To the ruins_

They all speak. Thousands of muffled voices overwhelming themselves. Overwhelming me. Overwhelming the chill, yet unable to remove it. Far too cold…far too…cold…

Only…

Vengeance

The…

Death

Dead…

Un-resting

Lay…

Vengeance! Death! War!

Here…

Release us…

Alone, upon these broken grounds. Alone, upon this cold, hard soil. Alone…

_He is never alone._

You…

_He was never alone. He always had us to accompany him._

You left me…you left me…left me to the chill and chime of death.

_He needs to listen. All the ringing, all the confusion, all the voices of the many. Unheard even by the one they tried to reach for so long, unheard by their one…hope_.

What…what are you…talking…about…?

He needs to relax. He needs to calm his soul. The time is now. The time we have waited for…is now. Relax, let the wings of winds fate draw you in. Let it cool your skin and let it warm your spirit. The time is now. We are free.

Yes…the time is now. Close your eyes, Hope. Let the slow growing warmth spread through your veins.

Vengeance, death! Release us!

Such a feeling. Such a time. Come, death, wash over this fool and let it be done. Let your grim grasp engulf my soul. Let the breeze brush my skin. Wait…my skin. I can feel. What is happening?!

He needs to let the warmth revive his soul. Let the holy power cleanse your body of the evil!

Suddenly, a burst of energy ripples through my flesh. Warmth wipes the tormenting chill from my body. The same warmth that runs hurriedly through my veins and brings strength to my fading body. It is then I notice something pressed firmly, yet loosely against my wound.

I hear Nathanos' voice, "What…what in the world?!"

My head jerks to the side. Nathanos stands on his feet. He takes steps away from me. An expression of horror, confusion, and shock grips his face. His head shakes in disbelief as he gawks awkwardly upon me.

His mouth quivers as he speaks, "What…what…in…the…world…?"

Out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of something unusual. Something unusual rests calmly against my flesh. Something of a misty, grayish matter rests warmly against a wound of a thousand deaths. From it, a light, a sparkling heaven of light and beauty radiates perfectly.

Before I can turn my head, a voice I have become accustomed to speaks to me, "He has set us free. He…is now free."

Lost in awe, the voice that once rang in my head now speaks to me from outside. It doesn't seem possible. How can it be?!

Grass tickles the back of the neck as my head shifts direction. My eyes absorb the sight upon my chest. Light pulsates in a circular fashion. Air ripples around a gray limb. An ashy mist radiates towards the splendidly dark skies.

The light lingers around my body. Tendrils of leaping magic bounce like rabbits across the arm and up to the massive, murky body. A thick, darkish armor rests firmly upon the shoulders. This armor extends downwards across the entire torso and rises to the chin.

Trails of grayed hair bushel finely from the well defined, squared chin and spread upwards to a smirking pair of light gray lips. A line of fine hair forms a mustache of a well-groomed variety. Above rests a pair of eyes. Eyes that gleam of grand glory. Eyes that release from them a mystically mesmerizing yellow pulse. A glow that calms the soul and guides the ghostly dead.

A hero rests before me, a warrior of the lost. A spirit of a man.

The hair upon the top of his shakes gently. Shakes all the way down to the tip of the long, rather elegant ponytail as he moves his head slightly, "Rise, champion of the lost. Rise!"

Everything quakes. Ringing flows through my mind. My body begins to shake and rock. Lifting upwards, my torso moves from the cold, grasping ground. It feels as if a thousand arms give me aid. It feels as if a thousand spirits chant to me. It feels as if the world braces me upon thin air.

I cannot help but gaze downward. The figure no longer kneels before me, but now stands firmly to my side. My body and all begin to move to an upright position. As I scan myself, I notice the light that once grew from his arm now pulses wildly upon my flesh. The same light trickles from my feet and flows to the ground below.

No longer touching the soil, my body rises to the skies.

A feeling unlike anything I have ever experienced before builds in my chest. Warm, tingling energy ripples in methodical pulses throughout my charged being. The glow burns brighter than before. The cries chant louder.

Air swells at my sides, it swells at my feet. It swells at all angles. Energy courses my veins with force of unimaginable quality. The light…it grows. Brighter…brighter.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, an explosion of magical proportions bursts from my person.

Light cones in all directions. Grass bends and whips to the might. Air is stirred into an angry torrent. Ground quakes and runs from me with great haste. Once oblivious undead take sight, but refuse to advance. An explosion of light. An explosion…of hope…

A glow hangs from my body. Voices yell to me. One speaks to me, "You are free, Hope Blackwood!"

I rotate my head slightly. A thin haze of golden air climbs from the ground into a pillar around my being. The human man smiles and braces a large, bulky sword in his right hand, "For too long you were trapped, Hope. For too long the fear of the unknown was sealed within you!"

My mouth opens gently and I speak, "Who are you?"

He chuckles gently to himself before he shakes his head, "I am the failure of lost man. I am the fool of a hero. I am the darkness of a once great legend." He shakes his head another time, "Upon the frozen lands of Northrend, I succumbed to the voices within my head. I gave into the sinister call. I became what I hated."

Looking away he appears to hide something within himself before peering back at me, "My name is L'oren Shay Tracks, former paladin of the Silver Hand. I took orders only from Lord Tirion Fordring himself…"

He pauses as something returns to his mind, "We were like brothers…and on the soils of the dark lands… I failed him. I led armies of death knights upon the living. I commanded them. I trained them."

His head shakes side to side in disbelief, "Abused to breaking, my body fell against the great Nerubian armies long before your time. But I was not free…no…he trapped me within your unborn body. Placed me within your soul before it even escaped the twisting nether."

He raises his sword, "But now…now I am free once again! The seal your father put upon your body to prevent that which he feared also encased you within your own body. But now, with the aid of the dark knights themselves, the evil seal has been broken! You are free! We are free!"

Confusion rushes through my head. He has said so much. I look to him with an expression of utter daze. He laughs before looking to me, "Ah yes, you are obviously lost, but I expect as much."

His expression intensifies as he turns to me, "Do not worry, Hope, you will know soon enough, but now…now you must embrace your true power!"

A short time lapses as he repositions himself towards me, "Hope Blackwood, the Lich King built you as a weapon of damnation! Your father feared what you may become and turned you into a prison, but both forgot one thing…"

He reaches over and grabs my arm, "You were born within the holy ground of Light's Hope Chapel. The light gave you your true power. The light guided you. And now, you have led yourself towards the path of becoming a force of true holiness!"

A bright glow ripples from his arm and into my body, "The souls of a thousand tormented spirits have waited for this moment! And you shall not disappoint! You shall not fail!"

Another explosion. Light courses the ground and scatters in all directions. My head rocks back. Light soars upwards into what seems like a limitless pillar of salvation. Instantly my head flies forward.

Sound washes my body into confusion, but his voice I can still hear, "From the wake of a thousand death gates tearing into the fabric of this universe, a single source of light was left to linger. Left to linger within a lonely existence. It was when you were born, it found itself free to wander, yet sadly still imprisoned within your flesh."

The beam pulsates and vibrates and he continues, "Now, with the seal crushed and your soul released, the energy of the one true 'Hope gate' can be released!"

Before me, a single spark bursts from my body and flies towards the ground. My eyes lock with the dancing dot until it finally collides with the soil. A flash of light bursts from the spot. Multiple streams of tormented, hazy air form into spiky whips of cloudy fury. Each airy entity dances with the other, as if teasing each other in some mystical fashion.

Within seconds the streaks of mist spiral into the air and collide together, exploding into a small pocket of light and darkened smog. What happens next can only be described as unbelievable. A figure, grayed and foggy as the paladin beside me, emerges from the cloud.

Spiny ears ripple out from the sides of his head. A pointy nose runs from his face while two rows of once bright teeth reveal themselves. It is a memory of a past not so long ago, and of a dream hours prior.

He smiles at me and speaks, "I remember you, Hope Blackwood."

Boomer twists in his spot as he examines himself. A fine blade runs from his hands. He smiles at me as he speaks, "They told me not to head towards the light, but…I knew better."

Unbelievable. Impossible. _You have only begun to see_.

Suddenly the paladin from my side cries to me, "Brothers, warriors, the time is now! Come forth, come forth and bring justice for the crimes brought against you!"

My body reels uncontrollably. A pulse of energy ripples from my body. My limbs twist back to breaking, but lock short. Flashes of cloudy light shoot in all directions from my being. My head locks backwards, but I can see. I can see them all.

Dozens upon dozens of the figures. Dozens upon dozens…

My mouth barely mouths, "Ghosts…"

The paladin laughs again, "Ghosts? They are no mere ghosts…they are the sons and daughters of the light! They flow from you, from Hope's Light!"

My body convulses forward. Limbs jerk together firmly and painfully. But I can still see. I can see as one of the figures emerges and instantly takes to his new found feet.

As he charges forward, his voice booms, "You have taken from me everything; my family, and my life!"

He pauses briefly as the ground parts in his path, "All I have to give in return…" His arms lift the fury of a mighty axe high above his head, "is my hatred…" the axes falls forward, colliding with a ghoul's head, "and an eternity of vengeance!"

The ghoul's body collapses instantly. And quickly so do others. The army of the light swarms from a pocket unseen by the enemy. The army of the light emerges from the area where only the dead once lay. The army of the light fights.

It is then the voice of a once confident knight bellows from his breaking army, "No..NOO. How is this…you should be dead! You should be part of the master!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the death knight standing a great deal away from me, watching as the army of his king is trampled by the might of what his master himself created so long ago. He watches me. As he does, I can feel his hatred and I can see his rage.

Air unexpectedly looses its grasp. My limbs relax and stretch outwards. Slowly I float back towards the ground. Grass bends and whips wildly as I descend. Carefully my toes touch the firm soil. Gently the heels of my worn shoes slide against the misty field. Firmly I come to an upright stance.

Sounds of battle overwhelm my presence. Sounds of warring units clash and crash against each other in a rising tide of the skirmish. Sounds of equal sides thrust against each other. Both equal in all aspects but one – courage.

Shifting towards the fight ahead, my head moves to draw in the new struggle. Ahead, I see armies of gray shattering against walls of whitened bleach. Ghouls crumble, crack, and collapse into themselves while skeletons shatter in slivers. Bursts of cloudy explosions turn once vengeful spirits into misty vapor before my very own eyes. Both sides lose numbers.

The entire army draws my attention, but one plated ghost figure catches my interest for some unknown reason. He throws himself head long into the enemy. His blade swings through slicing claws and dices through mashing jaws.

As he comes to the heart of the force, a dark knight pushes forward. Strangely, though, as the two near, the warrior of light does the unexpected. He drops his sword to his side.

Lunging forward, the twisted blade of darkness thrashes the cloudy vision. The runed blade easily penetrates the ghostly figure. Reaching forward, the damaged gray figure extends his arm and places his hand upon the head of the knight. For a brief second the two stay locked together. To the two formed as one.

In a spectacle of bright lights and flashing explosions, the holy figure explodes into a mystical cloud of bright fog, leaving the knight to stand dazed upon the field. He twists in his stance before glancing down at his hands as if he has never seen them before. Seconds pass before the figure gazes back upward, smiles, and begins laughing.

Grasping his sword, he spins in his spot and turns his back to me and faces his own forces. Raising his sword high, he proclaims, "Brothers…the voice…his voice…his voice is silent! It's silent!"

Instantly, another knight leaps forward. He rage bent upon the charging ghosts. Braced in his hands is a mighty runed blade. The same mighty blade that slowly begins tilting in his very hands. The same blade that points at another charging ghost covered in plate. The same blade the falls forward, bounces to his side and comes to rest next to the now kneeling knight.

Hands cusped together, the figure gazes upward upon the ghost and mouths two words. Two, simple words, _Free me_.

In a flash of fury the ghost places his hand upon the ghost, glows, and vanishes into mist and sparkling beauty. The death knight's hands fall to the ground as he begins to shake. Quickly he jerks upright. He reaches over, grabs his sword, and returns to his feet. Seconds later, he too faces the army of the damned. He too faces the army he once knew far too well.

How is that possible? How can that be? These ghosts…they sacrifice even their final vengeance for these monsters?! This makes no sense!

As I gaze mindlessly into the crowd, he voice of the paladin to my side returns, "Vengeance, Hope, can fuel rage unlike anything ever seen before. It can guide warriors of the light into darkness."

I turn slowly, locking my confused eyes with his motivating visage," And inspires the righteous to guide those consumed by the shadow back into the light."

He quits speaking. But even in his silence, the cries of death knights fill the air. Just ahead more knights experience what their brothers had and turn against the dark that once consumed them. Turn against the evil that once controlled their hearts and minds. The same evil…the fuels the Herald of the Lich…

At that very moment his sinister, deep voice bellows eerily from nearby, "You are supposed to be dead! It was what was tasked of me! You should be dead!"

I cannot turn. I hear the rumbling footsteps of the raging damned. His armor rattles upon his shoulders. His boots thud against hardened grounds. His chest heaves unused air from his uselessly functioning lungs.

Again he roars to me, sounding as if only feet away, "I am the Herald of the Lich King, I am his voice! He commands for your death, and I shall not fail! Die, Hope Blackwood! Die!"

Air rushes beside me. The force of his blade stirs the winds themselves and draws them into parting. I barely have time to twist my head to see the blackened armor out of the corner of my eyes. He stands beside me, his weapon barreling down upon my presence, yet I cannot see. Yet I do not feel any fear.

TING

Metal crashes upon metal. Sparks rain down, and draw my sight. I can barely see the black figure anymore. Blocking my sight and the very weapon itself is a wall of arms. A wall of arms bearing upon them each a separate shield. Each one uniting to form a barrier that protects against the might of his anger.

As the arms hover before my eyes, a glowing object just barely out of sight calls to me. It calls to me and slowly I gaze downward. Resting upon the ground is a weapon gleaming for all to see. Light illuminates from its presence while dancing shapes rearrange themselves systematically and rhythmically.

My shovel.

WHOOSH - TING

The sound of a mighty weapon failing against the might of a stubborn force fills the air. Quickly after, the grunts of a frustrated warrior burst out, "What is this? What is this?!"

WHOOSH – TING, WHOOSH – TING.

His voice returns as he readies for another strike, "Come, you coward, come and take what is deserving! Quit hiding under your filthy light!"

WHOOSH – TING, WHOOSH – TING, WHOOSH – TING.

A rattled voice of frustration and desperation calls, "This what was foreseen! The Master planned it! He told me! Today you were to die!"

My eyes stay locked firmly upon the ground. Even as the rattling above becomes continuous and grows louder, my eyes stayed firmly locked upon the blade half-buried under bodies. Slowly, my hand reaches out towards out. Slowly, it grasps the handle. Slowly, my arm lifts it upwards and lets a torrent of power rush through it.

WHOOSH – TING, WHOOSH – TING, WHOOSH – TING, WHOOSH – TING.

I pull the object to me and let the caressing lights tickle my senses. It calls to me. It sings to me.

It speaks to me just as does the paladin, "He is free now. He is free to use his weapon. It is now a part of you. Use it, Hope, use it."

He pauses for a brief second before continuing, "The Lich King has spoken, Hope, and he insults your very name. He spits upon all that is holy and now even dares strike at you."

I feel his hand rest upon my shoulder, but my eyes stay locked with the blade, "Use it, Hope."

My head twists back to him. His eyes glow brightly while a smirk covers his face. At first I wait from him to draw his blade to his side, but he does not move. Does he plan to aid me? Does he plan to take part in the fight?

I begin to open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

He scans my face for a second before nodding and speaking, "You go in alone, Hope, yet you go with the backing of an army. You go with the might of the light and all those whom possess it. You shall do this alone, yet you shall never be."

WHOOSH – TING, WHOOSH – TING, WHOOSH - TING

He throws a passing glance at the death knight before looking back towards me, "The Lich King has spoken, Hope. It would be rude of us not to respond."

In a flash my head whips forward. The shovel grows light in my hand. I rotate it so it rests horizontal to the ground, yet flat to my body. Its power glows brightly. Its power radiates throughout my body. Its power is for me to control, and for me to guide.

And so I shall.

WHOOSH – TING, WHOOSH…

Reacting fast, I throw the weapon upwards. As it nears the wall of unmoving shields, it glows brighter. As if commanded, the arms move and vanish into a cloud of vapor and foggy matter. It rises through the wall of mystic ash and becomes the only object between the fury of the knight and myself.

TING

Energy ripples rapidly upon all edges of the weapon. Air itself bends and folds hurriedly as the two mighty runed objects slam against each other. Fingers grip the vibrating shovel, while arms shake upon the handle of the cursed blade of the knight. Sound itself flees in terror, huddling upon our jittering teeth and the inner cliffs of our skulls.

The fallen knight's face contorts, revealing a rather strange combination of frustration and desperation. Muscles tighten maddeningly as all his might exerts downward. Then, expectedly, his eyes lock with mine, and for that very moment, for only a split second, I can see all his hatred. For only a split second, I can see all his rage. For a split second, I can see…

Jerking backwards, the knight pulls the blade away, grits his teeth and readies to swing. I, however, pull from my knees, come to my feet, and leap forward. My knees bend slightly, but my legs hold firmly. In a flash his blade flies forward…

TING

This time his blade makes it only a short distance. Energy once again turns the tranquil air into a plain of disturbed water, shaking as if a pebble was dropped into its vast sea. Metal quakes just above my head, but stays stationary as my shovel denies its passage. We are eye level, and as we stand here, they lock once again. For a second time, for another second, I can see his frustrations. I can see his desperation. I can see….

Again his blade flies backwards. The weapon poised to strike. His body positioned in perfect stance to deliver a fatal blow. His muscles ache with desire and his mind cries with focus. Quickly he attacks again.

I must react fast. My free arm jerks upwards grabbing the wooden handle. With due haste my body twists to the side, drawing the shovel away. Eying his blade carefully I focus myself and pull the weapon forward.

Out of the corner of my eye I watch as the constantly altering runes realign themselves in a beautiful display of white light. Both blades barrel downward. Their metallic surfaces shine of light or of darkness. Speed guides them both, but one is led by a stronger power. The dark blade hurls forward. Light sparkles as the shovel twists. Both aimed for victory, but one destined.

TING

An explosion of light clouds our vision. I am unable to see anything, but fully know who was the victor. Swiftly I move my arms, and my blade swings to the other side. I carefully reposition it, letting the blade tip point forward.

I watch as the wall of bright energy dissipates from view, revealing a stumbling knight. Taking a step forward, I let my mouth slide open and the words slip out, "Your master has foreseen only what he wanted to see."

My blade spins lightly in my hands as the Knight comes to stop. His blades rests loosely in his left hand, while the rest of his body rocks in place. A show of confusion and shock sweep his being. I take another step forward.

Drawing my arms back, I prepare to speak. As I do, I utter, "He saw his armies descending upon a weak force, a weak force undeserving of his attention."

My arms steady themselves. Wind tickles my cheeks while muscles in my body prepare to release a grand force. Quickly I step forward again, letting the blade rush past as I do. "He saw a new army to add to his already vast bulk."

The weapon shoots past my side and heads straight towards its target, "But he is blind!"

TING

Light erupts from the concentrated runes upon the blade's face. Rings of yellow energy pulsate outward. Sparks of white rain down from his chest, while bits of blackened metal flee in all directions.

He stumbles for a second letting his shoulders fly back, while his body loses all the strength it once firmly held. Hair floats down upon a startled face while muscles tighten and loosen across to form a bewildered look. Yet still, I can feel his hate. I can still feel his hatred. He is blind. He is far too ignorant.

A deep force rumbles within. Building energy draws from all directions and converges upon my presence. Trails of swirling bright energy ripples past my arms and into the many runes that circle to form almost a ball upon the shovel's blade. The air is dazzled as the energy lightens even this transparent entity. Such power. Such remarkable power.

All given to me but forces unknown, but yet by forces clearly seen. They gather upon my body and travel down to the blade as directed by some invisible hands. And they all have done their job. Now it is my turn.

My hands tilt the glowing force carefully. Arms guide the small attachments. Shoulders brace the guiders. Lungs gather energy. A heart fuels them all. Now…it is my turn.

Gazing back to the knight, I catch sight of his limp body. Radiating energy distorts his image, but I can still make him out. I can still make out the target.

Twisting the handle I readjust and begin pulling it upward. After a second, the sphere upon the end turns the air into a shaky sea like hot steam from stone pathways.

Quickly it passes my head and escapes sight but not view. It is then I speak, "You and your master are blind. They feel to see that no meager force came this day."

My arms draw backwards, "What you fail to see, death knight, is that upon this day…"

Massive reach is met, and it hangs for a second, "…the army of the light has descended upon you."

With all my might I exert the weapon forward. Easily the weapon passes overhead. Easily it soars back into sight, "And with it, hope."

Energy builds and blinds all corners of reality. An illuminating power expands in all directions, obscuring vision itself. Yet, as the weapon hurls forward, and as all the edges of this time and space vanish into the bright light, I can make out the death knight. His mouth hangs upon, and his eyes lock with mine.

I can see him. I can see who he is. I can see…

The blade hurls forward. It nears his body and readies to collide. I can see his eyes…

I can feel remnants of hate. I can feel waves of rage.

I can see…his fear…

_TING_


	27. Frozen Water

Reload.

Slamming the small metallic object into the equally as small chamber, I prepare myself for what is to come. The gun screams loudly as I ram the bolt into place and finish the loading of my fine weapon. I sweep the old, empty room for any signs of movement.

There, the far wall.

Across from my position the wall wails loudly as a force from the outside presses against it. Barely able to maintain whatever it is, the wall concaves into the room. Cracking, the poor vertical structure bows as much as it is willing before the force is released, allowing it to recoil back to its originality. Sadly, the building is not given much reprieve. Again the wall creaks, wails, bows, and splinters, but this time a different spot on the wall.

It is moving.

This is the moment. I let the metal cannon rest in my hands. Slowly, I lift the object upwards. My eyes do not drift from the wall. Coming into sight, I can now see the long tube that is the deliverer of destruction. Now, my eyes are aligned with lens that shall be my guide. Take a breath. Hold it.

TITHBURRRSSSH

Flying from the wound, slivers of wooden blood soar in all directions. It rains on my face for a few seconds before all calms. Did I hit my target? Suddenly, a loud crashing upon the roof quickly notifies me of my failure.

All the pressure, it must have driven me into a panic. All just a terrible, terrible dream. It felt so real. So…real. But I must focus for what is at hand. This insect must die!

Reload.

I reach into my pocket, grab a hold of a small yet long, cold object, remove my hand from the small indention on my side, and raise the chilled metal. Bracing the gun in my right arm, I quickly ram the bullet into the chamber, fidget with the bolt, and finish the procedure.

A loud thump draws my attention upward. Dust flutters in large clouds from the entire roof as my friend positions itself. Again, more dust shakes from its once peacefully slumber as something slams into the wooden surface. Another loud thump shakes the roof, and then…silence.

"Your aim is off, Hope Blackwood." Cracking the air, the raspy voice of a familiar friend echoes upon my mind.

That voice sounds so familiar. Is the Lich King messing with my mind? Are you two messing with my mind? Hello? What is going on?

"You are sluggish, Hope Blackwood!" The voice returns. Insects flood the room from all angles. I hesitated. There is nothing I can do to stop these monsters!

Reload.

"Reload, Hope." What? I do not understand.

"Reload and wake up." That voice…Nathanos?

Suddenly an object bursts through the hole that I just created. Splinters rain down in a torrent of rot and decay. Dust floats gently down while clouding all vision. It is almost impossible to see. Wait, I can make something out. The murky cloud is fading.

It appears as only a gray, hidden blob, but…I can make out. Impossible…

"Worm, you cannot aim worth a damn. Now reload, and try again. You bore me." It is Nathanos' voice that calls to me.

His head sticks out from the roof and he glares at me angrily, "Hope, reload or wake up."

Instantly my eyes shoot open. I scan the environment quickly. Light creeps weakly through holes of a rather familiar wall. Boxes line themselves across almost every inch and reach to the very ceiling. Most are hidden in illuminated shadows; others shown by small streaks of gleaming light that permeate the aging walls.

Boxes, upon boxes…of bombs.

I attempt to move my arms, but a weak convulsion of muscles forces me to stop. My body feels like one giant noodle. _You need to stop complaining. He needs to stand up._

Ah, good to see you two didn't run off on me. _You, wait…where would we go? He just doesn't realize that we fell asleep, too_. Huh? How in the world do you two sleep? _You don't want to know. He won't ever know._ Whatever, fine by me.

Again I attempt to move, this time, with far better results. My arms lift from the table, but float haphazardly upon the air. Fingers point oddly straight, yet wrists hand loosely down. Come on, Hope, move yourself.

Calmly I drag them downwards and brace them on the soft and squishy surface. Muscles tighten swiftly then loosen as frustration besets them. My arms quiver gently as I begin to push.

Come on, Hope, its just a simple movement. _You can do it! He can do it, lift that body!_

Sweat builds at my brow. Bones hold as firm as their structure allows while failing muscles rattle them out of place. Slowly, carefully, painfully I begin to feel my torso bend upwards. I move my chin to my chest and agonizingly use the strength of my neck to aid in the procedure. Probably not the best idea. _You fool. He has a neck of steel._

Inch by inch I travel upwards. Inch by inch I feel the goal almost at hand. Inch by inch all the energy I have slowly dissipates. Come on, Hope, almost! Almost…you…can….do…

Ah-ha!

My torso comes to a full upright position for a brief second then promptly slumps forward. Luckily my neck has something left in it and my head holds upright just enough to keep me looking forward. _You really do have a strong neck. He is a monohydra. You…what?_

A thundering beat radiates through my ribs and deep into my mind. Air enters and escapes deeply filled lungs at a rapid pace. That really took way too much effort. I really wish someone else…

A sudden, angrily recognizable voice interrupts my thoughts from my right side, "Worm, that was quite remarkable." Nathanos chuckles to himself before continuing, "Let me say, I was planning to aid you, but…"

I hear him smack his lips, and I slowly begin twisting my neck. Unfortunately for me, I am able to turn in time to see the few last fractures of mockery that is his face peering gleefully back at me.

He chuckles a bit more before finally continuing, "But…I haven't seen so much determination before in my life; especially coming from an individual that punted a deathknight one hundred yards clear into the sea with relative ease."

Instantly I prepare to yell at him…but…that last thing he said. What in the world does he mean? I feel my face contort into its average combination of confusion and bewilderment.

Nathanos, as usual, takes note of this expression and begins speaking, "Ah yes, you would no idea what am talking about." He clears his throat and adjusts himself on his chair, "Ok, I have been planning this speech for a while, so if you interrupt me, I am going to smash your face in. Ok?"

At first I get ready to speak, but quickly rethink my actions. Instead I weakly move my head up and down once or twice and he returns with a nod of his own.

He leans back in his chair and begins, "To begin, Hope, you have been asleep for roughly…oh…hmmm, what was it? Ah, yes…"

His hands smack together, filling the air with a disgusting bone grinding sound, "Two weeks."

Two weeks?! My mouth opens. Nathanos' eyes narrow, and quickly I close it. Two weeks?! _You needed a nap after all. He needed…one-second…bam…a 336-hour nap._

Nathanos gives me a nod as if to confirm my extremely bedazzled state then continues, "Yup, right after you smashed your insanely bright mace-looking shovel square in the Herald's chest, an explosion tore across the entire battle field. Zombies zoomed to get away while skeletons scurried in all directions. Hell, abominations averted course straight into the ocean to get away from the light."

His hands make as strange twirling motion as he speaks, "They yelled something…about…eh…burning or something, I don't know. But let me tell you, even with that army of ghostees tearing up that field, it was you that ended it."

A second later he raises his hands just over his head and looks upward, "White light enveloped every inch of that land. Warriors fell to their knees in peaceful trance, and angry heroes felt a calming cool drive their soul to tranquility."

He closes his eyes. For a moment he shakes gently as if he is recalling that exact moment. Quickly he reopens them and speaks, "That explosion brought an army a brief passing glance at true light…at true beauty. That explosion sent a deathknight hurling backwards clear over the building he came from, and out of sight towards a calm sea. That explosion…was remarkable."

Again he closes his eyes, this time little his body quivers slightly before shifting sight back towards me. In a flash his eyes open and glares at me, "Shortly after, the source of the magnificent event went limp… and fell flat on his face. And when I mean on his face, I mean nose first on his face. Painful to see, hilarious to watch."

I glare at him and shake my head. He smiles and continues on ignorantly, "Carlin, Mark, Vol'jin and myself ran across that field and to you. At first we cheered and reveled in your triumph, but…then we panicked and quickly realized you weren't getting up. We thought you died, actually."

He shake his head and looks at the floor, "At that point the four of us picked you off the ground, lifted you over our heads, and…began carrying you. As we departed we shouted a few words to our fallen comrades and started what was going to be a very, very long trek home…but…"

Looking back at me, he smirks oddly, "As we crossed over the ridge leading back to the ruins where we teleported in, a beautiful sight filled our eyes. Just over the horizon, in the direction of Orgrimmar, two brown objects appeared. Purple cloth yelled to us a chant of savior while wooden decks screamed a tale of a perfect ending. It took them no time to see our chanting, jumping selves, and just as quickly as it took to get to us, we were off."

He leans forward in his seat and sighs, "Sadly, being back aboard the Transporter did not bring the safety we desired. You see…"

One arm braces his leg while the other waves at me, "Hours prior to the ending of the battle…a traitor beset Undercity with his filth. He launched an attack on the entire populace…including the queen."

He quickly raises his hand to stop what he knew what was coming, "No, she was not hurt, and yes, all is right again. With the aid of Vol'jin and an army of eager heroes, the city was returned to the horde, and demon traitor with his idiotic lackey Putress were defeated."

Again he sighs, "To make things worse, the King of Stormwind enraged, attacked Thrall, and now we are at all out war with the alliance…again."

His sight drifts to the floor and he shakes his head again, "So now all members of both sides fight aimlessly against each other, only remembering the hate that happened in Northrend – ill let Carlin fill you in on that one – and all we have now is mindless rage."

Slowly his eyes drift back towards me, "Actually, most individuals do not remember the battle cries of our victory that day. Most individuals do not recall the day you ended the darkness so close to home. Most individuals do not even know how near we all came to doom."

Oddly he smirks and throws me a rather confidently creepy look, "Fortunately for us, the Crusade felt that…um…light…of yours all the way back in the Plaguelands." He nods, "They know what happened, but they do not speak widely of it. No, they are sneaky little devils."

Nathanos makes ready to carry on, but sudden echoing footsteps from overhead draw his attention. At first it sounds only as if there is only one person, but minutes later, dozens upon dozens of stomping steps rain down and dance upon these hallowed walls.

One set grows louder and neared very quickly. I attempt to twist myself to see, but a rather sharp pain snaps through my back and tells me very directly to cease all activity. I stop instantly. _You are smart. He doesn't want to see a witchdoctor now._

A raspy voice booms forth from what I am guessing is the stairwell, "Death speaka'mon!" The troll's rather loud voice burns the brain, but he that does not stop him, "You be awake now!"

Without turning I respond, "Yes, that I am…"

Suddenly I see him out of the corner of my eye. Surprisingly he reaches over, grabs my leg that faces the wall, and in a display of complete ignorance and stupidity…pulls them towards him.

Tales of agony seep up from my lower torso and glide elegantly to my mind. Stories of paralyzing pain drift through my muscles and cling tightly to my bones. What feels like an eternity passes before I find myself facing towards the center of the ship's hold.

My mouth hangs limply open, yet all that escapes are winces of wimpy groans. The troll throws me a quick stare, reaches into his bag, pulls out from his pocket a small, circular object, and forcefully jabs it into the gaping hole in my face.

He rudely tilts my head back. After a few shakes, the pill awkwardly slides down my throat. Instantly a rush of numbing, cool tidal waves ripples through my body. All the muscles that once fought to bring about raging pain now relax in a sea of calm. That is one hell of a pill. _You said it. He almost makes me feel it._

I stare at him for a second before smiling. He smiles in response and speaks, "Ya, mon, I got da medicine fo'wat ails ya."

All the thoughts of what Nathanos told me minutes ago rush to the corners of my mind, and are voided by the fantastic relieve that now finds itself inside me. I stretch my arms gently before looking back at the troll that stands before me. All the questions for Nathanos may not be important to me right now, but…

I narrow my vision at him and talk, "Why do you call me 'death speaker,' troll?"

For a second he looks at me with a confused expression before chuckling, "Ah, yes, like I said in back at Thrall's place, dat wat ya be. You be da link between da spirits and da dead. Not even shamans nor sissy druids got anything on ya."

I make to speak, but he beats me to it, "Dem scourge be using ya kind to bring armies of dem ghoulees and death knights to dere army, but wit ya…wit ya…" He draws closer to me, "Wit ya, mon, da light got demselves a hero. A hero dat will bring all dem ones that hide from demselves to the folds of good. A hero dat bring hundreds a new found hope. A hero...of its own class."

He leans back, braces his back and laughs, "Enough of dat, mon. People be waiting on da deck for ya."

I look at him before speaking, "Who? Who could possibly be waiting for me?"

His body falls forward and he laughs even louder than before, "Ya kidd'n, mon? Da Argent Crusade be tell'n ya tale, mon. Everyone know about, ya."

Without hesitating I look to Nathanos, "I thought you said no one knows who I am?"

He shrugs his shoulders while he begins to stand, "Ok, maybe I lied a bit."

I begin to stand without thinking and wobble for a second. He makes for the stairs, but I follow weakly, yet firmly. Nathanos moves quickly up the first flight before turning to the next one. As he makes for the upper deck, I speak to him, "How many people know? You know I don't do well with crowds."

Coming around the corner, a weak light washes over me. The sky above has the thick, greenish clouds that were once filled my every waking moment. Streaks of faded gray commingle with the moldy colored pillows of ominous decoration. So familiar.

Nathanos steps on to the deck and his final stomp draws me back to reality. As I glance to him I near the surface. I begin to speak just as my head comes in line with wooden floor, "Nathanos…how…man…y…"

Dozens upon dozens of Forsaken warriors instantly turn to look at Nathanos. As their glances pass by him they fall down to me. The warriors come to formation almost instantly. Their faces become firm and they brace themselves at proper attention.

Nathanos moves to the side of the stairwell and shouts loudly, "Men, our hero has awoken!"

Warriors raise their swords in the air. Soldiers brace their shields to the front. Brave fighters cry loudly, "Hero of the Light! Hoorah!"

Very, very slowly I creep up the stairs. There are so many faces looking in my direction, yet staring off into unknown space. Keep moving, Hope, its just a few soldiers…

"Hope, welcome back to Undercity!" A crackly, feminine voice rings loudly from my right side.

Regretfully I turn my head to the side. Slowly more individuals begin to fill my sight. As I twist, I catch sight of a rotten, wooden ramp that tilts slightly from where a certain zeppelin hit. On top of said ramp are at least a dozen people. Behind them rests the decaying, grayed tower the blends perfectly with the black and gray sky that looms behind it. More and more faces flock back into the tower and down the spiraling ramp.

At least one hundred. At least…

I lock eyes with a purple hazy individual whom points intensely in my direction. That must be who spoke. _You are good. He knows all. _Around her stands a group that stares intently at me, but do not move a muscle.

Suddenly she turns in her spot, faces the few nearest to her and yells, "Hope Blackwood, everyone! He is here!"

There is a brief moment of silence. The calm, unmoving air booms a deafening sound of still silence. Unfortunately, seconds pass, and the uproar that follows after puts that brief passing of silence to shame.

Arms anchor into the sky. Heads hover backwards as mouths mash the once calm air with torrents of cries. Eyes locked upon one figure, as he stands confused and baffled by the sheer volume and quality of the reaction.

So many people…

I notice my head turn, but the overwhelming burden of bearing eyes keep me from truly feeling it. So…many…people. My sight creeps backwards as I twist myself to look towards the one that started this. A few, very long seconds pass before I glare at Nathanos.

He stands firm and confident. His arms reach backwards almost as far back as the corners of his mouth. A tan hood reaches over the top of his head, shadowing his eyes. But I can still see that smile. Bone runs to bone, as slightly brighter teeth shine more prominently than the darkened mold around them.

Damn you, Nathanos.

Once again I find myself glaring at him before I speak, "Marris…did you plan this?"

He shrugs, "Not really. More or less it came together all on its own. Still funny, though."

The decayed individual stares at me a bit longer before quickly shifting vision and altering his position to a complete upright posture. He gazes at something behind me and on the ramp.

"Men, at the ready!" I spin in my spot, but before I can catch the figure, he speaks, "Queen Sylvanas, your soldiers are ready!"

As he finishes his final words, my head sweeps across the beautiful figure. A silence sweeps the crowd. Instantly my eyes lock with her gorgeous, red orbs of fantastic magnificence. Grayed skin stretches smoothly across all inches of her figure and matches her perfect posture. She stands as confidently as she did the last time I had the pleasure of being in her sight.

Her glowing eyes shift from Nathanos over to me. Sweet lids of beauty glide gently over part of the two magnificent globes as she apparently glares at me.

She frowns and says, "Honestly, idiot, I assumed you had been consumed by a pack of boars…"

Without hesitating, the ghostly form next to her says something inaudible. The Queen throws a passing glance at the form and then sighs. She looks back at me. This time she groans, "It…is…good…"

The words seem to burn her, yet…at the same time…"It is good…you are back, Hope."

At first I expect her to say something angry and insulting towards me, but oddly, she simply stares at me. Her lips move from her normal disgruntled appearance and, strangely, move to a normal form. I know this is not a smile, but heck, close enough. _You are accepting. He is easily pleased._

I continue to gaze upon the wonderful sight before I feel something bump the back of my leg. Hurriedly I spin and look for what hit me. Captain Skippy rushes past me, grumbling something to himself. From what I can tell, he is covered in a fine white powder and appears to have some burn marks on this clothing.

He shoos the pack of soldiers out of his way and makes for his normal position. As he steadies himself he glares back at us and snorts, "Bah, I will get those strudels right, I will!" And then he shifts forward.

Seconds later he begins shifting levers, twisting knobs, and pulling gears. A rumbling sensation rattles my body. Deep, bellowing groans signal the call of grinding engine. It appears that we are going somewhere. _You got it. He is catching on._

I make ready to say something, but Nathanos' interrupting voice beats me once again, "My queen, the vessels are ready to go!"

Right as he says that, I hear the sounds of other starting engines chime in with the already humming unit behind us. After a quick sweep of the oddly missed surroundings, I notice three other zeppelins aligned at different docking stations. I guess all the people made me miss these. _You tell yourself that. He is most likely correct._

The Queen's voice rings from my side, "You are ready, my commander. Make haste to the northern continent!"

Jerking motion shakes me gently as the zeppelin begins rolling forward. I glance over to Nathanos briefly before confusedly glancing back at the Queen. She throws a quick, uncaring wave at us.

We leave the ramp behind in seconds and begin our quest northward…or at least I think that is where we are going. _You…are special. He heard right._

Once again I make to talk to Nathanos, but I am, once again, interrupted. This time, though, it is by a figure in shouting range, "Nathanos…throw him into the chilled water."

Nathanos chuckles loudly then replies, "Will do, my lady. He will make a fine Popsicle!"

And at that, I finally glare at Nathanos, open my mouth, and speak, "Jackass, where are we going?"

Shocked he throws me a confused look before laughing, "Ah, sorry, Worm, I forgot the part where we were ordered to reinforce Northrend." He clears his throat, "You see, the recent assault into Naxxramas as left our forces thin in certain areas, and…that is where we come in."

He slaps my shoulder quite hard, turns around, heads to the railing, and promptly takes a spot against the barrier. I would question and or yell at him right now, but…I don't really have it in me. Sitting, though…I am certain I can do that.

Calmly I stroll across the deck. Soldiers give me quiet cheers as I pass by them. Carlin and Mark even throw me a few nods and silent applauds as I make my way towards Nathanos. I flop quite hard next to him, but the pill still has a hold on me, so I feel nothing. _You will in the morning. He will need another._

Nathanos sighs, and looks down between his legs. Carlin walks slowly past us, and very, very slowly bends and sits next to his. He grunts as he takes a spot, and acknowledges Mark as he takes the location next to Carlin.

All of us sit quietly, letting only the puttering of an ancient engine fill the void that would be utter silence. My eyes catch sight of drifting clouds just in sight under the purple blimp overhead. Gray streaks dances delicately across blackened mounds of mushy air. White spots dot the dark mixture with signs of light.

As I stare at this strange oddity, I cannot help but feel that this is grand resemblance of life. I cannot help but feel that this simple cloud describes the group here better than any painting, any story, or any writing possibly can.

As I stare at this strange oddity, I smile. Without breaking my focus, I speak, "Carlin, tell me a story."

He chuckles slightly, "I am not sure I have any for you, Hope. You are a grand tale yourself, I have no clue what could possibly beat that."

My smile grows, "I have been unconscious for two weeks, you can tell me what I missed."

There is a brief silence before he chuckles again, fidgets, and speaks, "That is a good start." He clears his throat, "It all began with a flash of light, and the hero that is hope."

Ah, Carlin, you always did tell stories the best.

* * *

A deep chill sweeps my body. I grunt and snort as I interrupt my own snoring by awakening. Frost bites the tips of my eyelids, and cause me to have to force them open. Instantly a blast of frosty ear seals them.

I don't remember falling asleep. _You did four hours ago. He did after five hours of story telling._

Arms stretch upwards as I let the muscles in my body tighten. The same limbs fall forward as I let the same muscles relax. My body shutters a bit as blast of bitterly icy wind crashes against my body.

I let my arms wrap around me. Calmly I glance to my right. Carling and Mark lay fast asleep, dreaming of whatever heroes dream of. Carefully I twist towards Nathanos. He stares forward.

I too cannot help but glance, and what I see makes me forget all about the numbing frost. Crisp blue mountain peaks build downwards into blackened blocks of nature's beautiful architecture. Misty whips of white wonder dance encircle and engulf all boundaries of the peaks, giving them figure, yet blurring their true forms.

A grayish sky extends upwards from the stone structure like ash from an erupting volcano. A sight that can only be truly described as remarkable. A sight that can only be truly noted as perfection.

Suddenly a hear the skittering of tiny nails against wood. Before I can even turn, I feel a awkwardly worm, yet chilling object swipe across the side of my head. Quickly I turn to see the wiggling creature. Wriggler! I scratch the sides of the scruffy monster's head.

Then, as always, he begins to convulse violently. Muscles lock and loosen as he makes ready to bring me a gift. _You always wanted a skull! He doesn't need that, poppa needs a new pair of shoes!_

Wriggler coughs and spits a glass object from his gullet. Oddly, I notice it. I only dare look at it, due to the disgusting nature of it, but I know it. It's my bottle of holy water. Only…frozen. How in the world?

Unexpectedly I hear Nathanos laugh, and I am forced to look. He continues to stare off towards the icy horizon.

Oddly he turns to me, stops to break an ice sickle from his chin, and speaks, "Congratulations, Worm. You have discovered Northrend."


	28. End Part 1: Dawn of Hope

---End Part 1---

Dawn of Hope

---Begin Part 2---

March of the Damned


End file.
